'…High?'
'Dope. High.'
'I haven't smoked a joint since last night.'
'Exactly,' he said with emphasis.
'…You're saying I should cut down on smoking dope?'
'I'm saying dope's got nothing to do with it.' A branch was blocking our path and he held it aside until I passed him, then let the branch snap back. 'That's why you should watch yourself.'
I snorted dismissively. The way he was talking reminded me of his obscure references to blame on Ko Pha-Ngan. Sometimes Jed could be wilfully cryptic, and uncharitably I decided it had probably led to his alienated position in the beach life just as much as the awkward circumstances of his arrival. That, in turn, made me think of my own budding alienation.
'Jed,' I said, after a pause. 'Do you think it would be OK if I told people about our run-in with the dope guard? It doesn't involve Zeph and Sammy…' 'Mmm.'
'…See, I'm constantly being coy about what we 're doing up on the island. I sort of feel like this would be a chance for me to…'
'Tell them,' he interrupted. 'No harm. It's probably a good idea.'
'Uh-huh?'
'We don't want it to seem like we're hiding stuff from people.'
'Great,' I said, and started to whistle the first bars of the mouse song before catching myself.
It was pitch-black back at the camp. What colour remained in the sky was entirely blocked out by the canopy ceiling. The only light came from candles through the open door of the longhouse and spatterings of red cigarette and joint butts, glowing in clusters around the clearing.
Although I was looking forward to telling my ex-detail about the sleeping dope guard, my first thought was food so I aimed straight for the kitchen hut. Every day Unhygienix wrapped a couple of portions in banana leaf for me and Jed, and made sure we got some of the choicest bits of fish. It was cold by the time we'd get to it, but I was usually too hungry to mind. That night I noticed Unhygienix had added papaya to the stew, which irritated me slightly as it meant Bugs had succeeded in tracking down my orchard.
After getting my parcel I walked around the clearing, joining the dots between the clusters of smokers, looking for my friends. Unusually, they were nowhere to be found, and nobody seemed to know where they were. Confused, I checked Keaty's tent and then the longhouse, where I found Unhygienix, Cassie and Ella playing blackjack, and further up, Jesse writing in his diary.
'Ah!' said Unhygienix when he saw me, and pointed to my food. 'What do you think?'
'Of the stew?'
'Yes. You notice the fruit? A good taste?'
'Sure. Sweet and savoury. Very Thai.'
Unhygienix beamed. 'You know what I did? I made some papaya juice and stewed it with the fish, but I only put in the flesh in the last
two minutes, or it falls apart in the heat. So this way you have the taste and the texture.'
'Ah.'
'And, Richard, we can have this again, because Jean will plant the seeds and we will grow papaya in the garden. I am very pleased with this dish.'
'You should be. It tastes really good. Well done.'
Unhygienix shook his head modestly. 'You should be thanking Bugs.'
'…Why's that?' I said suspiciously.
'He discovered these papayas in the jungle.'
I choked on a fish bone. 'Bugs did what?'
'In the jungle, he found a whole orchard of papayas and monkeys.'
'No he didn't!'
'Yes. Yesterday, he found this orchard.'
'I found the fucking orchard! I found it a couple of weeks ago!'
'…Really?'
'Was Bugs saying he found it?'
'…Uh…'
Cassie smiled. 'Yes he was.'
'That prick !' In my temper I squeezed the banana leaf and some of the stew spilled on to the ground.
'Careful,' said Ella.
I frowned, suddenly aware I was making quite a scene. 'Well, anyway… he's lying.'
'Don't worry,' Cassie chuckled, laying down a long run from a three to a black Jack. 'We don't doubt it.'
'…Good.'
They went back to their game and I continued up the longhouse towards Jesse.
'I heard,' he said drily, as I approached. 'Congratulations on finding the papayas.'
'Yes, well, it isn't a big thing. It just…'
'Got on your nerves,' he finished for me, and lowered his diary. 'Course it did. Understood. Are you looking for Keaty?'
'…Yeah.' I nodded morosely. As a consequence of the papayas my mood had gone bad. 'And the others. I can't find them. I think they've all gone off together somewhere.'
'Right. He left me a message to give you.'
'Oh,' I said, perking up a bit. 'Let's hear it.'
'It was a note. I put it on your bed.'
I thanked him and jogged the rest of the way up the longhouse, keen to find out what was going on.
The note was folded on my pillow, and beside it was a rolled joint. It read 'Smoke this quick! Phosphorescence! Keaty!'
I frowned. 'Hey, Jesse,' I called. 'What does the note mean?'
I waited while he finished writing, then he looked up. 'Dunno, mate. Didn't read it. What's it say?'
'Phosphorescence. And it's got a joint.'
'Ah.' Jesse waggled his pencil at me. 'Phosphorescence!'
'What is it?'
'You don't know?'
'…No.'
He smiled. 'Go down to the beach. You'll see. And make sure you smoke that joint on the way.'
Phosphorescence
The DMZ
Zombie Fish-Eaters
Bedlam
Incubus
'Dope. High.'
'I haven't smoked a joint since last night.'
'Exactly,' he said with emphasis.
'…You're saying I should cut down on smoking dope?'
'I'm saying dope's got nothing to do with it.' A branch was blocking our path and he held it aside until I passed him, then let the branch snap back. 'That's why you should watch yourself.'
I snorted dismissively. The way he was talking reminded me of his obscure references to blame on Ko Pha-Ngan. Sometimes Jed could be wilfully cryptic, and uncharitably I decided it had probably led to his alienated position in the beach life just as much as the awkward circumstances of his arrival. That, in turn, made me think of my own budding alienation.
'Jed,' I said, after a pause. 'Do you think it would be OK if I told people about our run-in with the dope guard? It doesn't involve Zeph and Sammy…' 'Mmm.'
'…See, I'm constantly being coy about what we 're doing up on the island. I sort of feel like this would be a chance for me to…'
'Tell them,' he interrupted. 'No harm. It's probably a good idea.'
'Uh-huh?'
'We don't want it to seem like we're hiding stuff from people.'
'Great,' I said, and started to whistle the first bars of the mouse song before catching myself.
It was pitch-black back at the camp. What colour remained in the sky was entirely blocked out by the canopy ceiling. The only light came from candles through the open door of the longhouse and spatterings of red cigarette and joint butts, glowing in clusters around the clearing.
Although I was looking forward to telling my ex-detail about the sleeping dope guard, my first thought was food so I aimed straight for the kitchen hut. Every day Unhygienix wrapped a couple of portions in banana leaf for me and Jed, and made sure we got some of the choicest bits of fish. It was cold by the time we'd get to it, but I was usually too hungry to mind. That night I noticed Unhygienix had added papaya to the stew, which irritated me slightly as it meant Bugs had succeeded in tracking down my orchard.
After getting my parcel I walked around the clearing, joining the dots between the clusters of smokers, looking for my friends. Unusually, they were nowhere to be found, and nobody seemed to know where they were. Confused, I checked Keaty's tent and then the longhouse, where I found Unhygienix, Cassie and Ella playing blackjack, and further up, Jesse writing in his diary.
'Ah!' said Unhygienix when he saw me, and pointed to my food. 'What do you think?'
'Of the stew?'
'Yes. You notice the fruit? A good taste?'
'Sure. Sweet and savoury. Very Thai.'
Unhygienix beamed. 'You know what I did? I made some papaya juice and stewed it with the fish, but I only put in the flesh in the last
two minutes, or it falls apart in the heat. So this way you have the taste and the texture.'
'Ah.'
'And, Richard, we can have this again, because Jean will plant the seeds and we will grow papaya in the garden. I am very pleased with this dish.'
'You should be. It tastes really good. Well done.'
Unhygienix shook his head modestly. 'You should be thanking Bugs.'
'…Why's that?' I said suspiciously.
'He discovered these papayas in the jungle.'
I choked on a fish bone. 'Bugs did what?'
'In the jungle, he found a whole orchard of papayas and monkeys.'
'No he didn't!'
'Yes. Yesterday, he found this orchard.'
'I found the fucking orchard! I found it a couple of weeks ago!'
'…Really?'
'Was Bugs saying he found it?'
'…Uh…'
Cassie smiled. 'Yes he was.'
'That prick !' In my temper I squeezed the banana leaf and some of the stew spilled on to the ground.
'Careful,' said Ella.
I frowned, suddenly aware I was making quite a scene. 'Well, anyway… he's lying.'
'Don't worry,' Cassie chuckled, laying down a long run from a three to a black Jack. 'We don't doubt it.'
'…Good.'
They went back to their game and I continued up the longhouse towards Jesse.
'I heard,' he said drily, as I approached. 'Congratulations on finding the papayas.'
'Yes, well, it isn't a big thing. It just…'
'Got on your nerves,' he finished for me, and lowered his diary. 'Course it did. Understood. Are you looking for Keaty?'
'…Yeah.' I nodded morosely. As a consequence of the papayas my mood had gone bad. 'And the others. I can't find them. I think they've all gone off together somewhere.'
'Right. He left me a message to give you.'
'Oh,' I said, perking up a bit. 'Let's hear it.'
'It was a note. I put it on your bed.'
I thanked him and jogged the rest of the way up the longhouse, keen to find out what was going on.
The note was folded on my pillow, and beside it was a rolled joint. It read 'Smoke this quick! Phosphorescence! Keaty!'
I frowned. 'Hey, Jesse,' I called. 'What does the note mean?'
I waited while he finished writing, then he looked up. 'Dunno, mate. Didn't read it. What's it say?'
'Phosphorescence. And it's got a joint.'
'Ah.' Jesse waggled his pencil at me. 'Phosphorescence!'
'What is it?'
'You don't know?'
'…No.'
He smiled. 'Go down to the beach. You'll see. And make sure you smoke that joint on the way.'
Phosphorescence
I walked along the path to the beach as fast as I could, which wasn't that fast because I didn't want to bump into any tree-trunks or stub my foot on a root. At the same time I smoked the joint, practically hit and running it even though I was alone, because I felt like getting wasted and because Keaty had told me to smoke it quick.
Meanwhile I seethed about the papayas, and pretty soon I was very stoned and deeply involved in a fantasy about beating up Bugs. In its earliest form the fantasy started off as just me and him, but soon I decided I needed an audience to bear witness to his humiliation. I added Françoise, then Jed and Keaty, then Étienne and Greg, and eventually the whole camp.
It was a Sunday. It had to be a Sunday, because that was the only time you got the whole camp in one place. Most people were kicking a ball around, a few were swimming, and a few were playing Frisbee. I was standing with Françoise. We were sharing a joke when Bugs appeared from the tree-line with Sal, and three big papayas cradled in his arms. 'Got some more papayas,' he called. 'Enough for everyone.' 'Excuse me,' I said quietly to Françoise. 'Won't be a moment.' He caught my eye as I strode towards him and did a double-take, recognizing the purposeful nature of my step and the grim set of my mouth. First he looked alarmed, then arrogant. He was going to bluff it out, I realized.
'Yes,' he said loudly, holding up the fruit for all to see, and still watching me from the corner of his eye. 'Here are some more papayas that I found.'
I stopped a metre away from him. 'Papayas that you found, Bugs?'
'That's what I said.'
'Uh-huh. Then how about we take a walk down to the orchard… right now.'
His eyebrows flicked upwards.' …Now?'
'Now. And I'll show you the joint butt I left, when I found the orchard no less than two weeks ago !'
Everyone gasped, including Sal. A crowd had formed a circle around us and Françoise had come running over to stand by my side. 'Is this true?' she demanded angrily.
Bugs scoffed. 'Of course not! He's lying! I found the orchard!'
'So how about that walk?'
'I don't have to prove myself to you!'
'I think you do.'
'Up yours. I found the orchard. End of story.'
I smiled. 'You know what, Bugs…?' The silence was deathly, aside from the gentle lapping of the waves on the shore. 'You're kinda buggin' me!'
The crowd laughed and Bugs' face twisted with rage. 'Is that right?' he sneered. 'Well take this!' A papaya hurtled towards my head but I ducked and it flew past me into the crowd.
'Hey!' someone yelled. 'Watch it!'
Bugs swore and made as if he was about to throw another, but quick as a flash I grabbed the Frisbee from Cassie, who was standing beside me, and hurled it with lethal accuracy. The papaya exploded at the impact. The remaining chunks slithered from his hand and fell to the sand, harmless.
'Why you…' he started to say, but I was already on him. I faked with a left and floored him with a right. He dropped like a sack of potatoes.
Now he was scared. 'I'm thorry,' he yelped, holding a hand up to cup the blood splashing from his busted lips, 'lt'th true! I didn't find the papayath! Richard did!'
Slowly I bent down and picked the Frisbee up again, pausing to wipe away a few shreds of pulped papaya flesh. 'Too late for that, Bugs,' I muttered softly, almost kindly. 'Too late…'
He screamed but didn't move, paralysed with fear like a rabbit in headlights. The Frisbee shot down and connected squarely with the bridge of his nose, shattering the bone. Then he rolled on to his side and scrabbled weakly at the sand, trying to crawl away. I kicked him on the back of the head and gave him four hard punches in the kidney.
He whimpered. 'Pleathe,' he said. 'Don't.'
A bad choice of words. My temper rose. Looking around me I spotted a fishing spear.
'Rewind,' I said, taking the last drag from the joint. 'Can't do that.' I sucked until the tips of my fingers burned, then threw away the roach and rewound back to my first punch.
I faked with a left and floored him with a right. He dropped like a sack of potatoes.
'I'm thorry,' he yelped, 'lt'th true! I didn't find the papayath!'
'Say that again!' I shouted, looming over him with the Frisbee poised.
'I didn't find them! You did! I'm thorry!'
'Louder!'
'You found the papayath!'
I nodded curtly, and turned to Françoise. 'Just wanted to set the record straight.'
She glanced down at Bugs' twitching figure. 'Of course,' she said briefly.
'You want to swim out to the coral garden?'
'Yes, Richard,' she breathed, interlocking her arm with mine. 'I would love to.'
The fantasy might have happily continued from there, but the dead leaves and dirt under my feet had become sand. I'd reached the beach.
It took me ages to find Keaty and the others. Even with the moonlight I couldn't see them, and their laughter seemed to come from everywhere, spread evenly over the water and faintly echoing off the cliffs. But after twenty minutes of stoned wandering along the shore I finally pinned them down to a group of small boulders, a hundred metres out.
As I couldn't see them and they couldn't see me, I decided there wasn't much sense in calling out, so I slipped off my T-shirt and began swimming towards them. Gradually their figures became discernible in the darkness. They were all standing and bending over to look downwards into the water. Then – at roughly the moment I must have become visible to them – their laughter abruptly cut off, and as I got closer I saw that they had all turned to face my direction. 'Hey!' I said, finding their watchful silence a little eerie. 'What's up?' They didn't answer. I continued swimming and repeated the question, irrationally thinking they might not have heard me. When they didn't answer again I stopped, treading water ten feet from the boulder. 'Why aren't you answering me?' I said, puzzled.
'Look down,' Keaty replied after a moment or two.
I paused, then looked. The water was as black as ink, except for where the moonlight caught the ripples. '…What's to see?'
'He is too close,' I heard Étienne say.
'No,' said Keaty. 'Richard, move your hands, just under the surface.'
'OK…' I did as he said. From the boulder I heard Françoise sigh, but I still couldn't see anything past the blackness. 'I don't get it… What's this about?'
'Too close,' Étienne repeated.
Keaty's silhouette scratched its head.' Yeah, you're right… Come up on to the boulder, Richard. Watch me dive. We'll show you…'
At first I could see nothing but the disturbed water and reflected moonlight from where Keaty had vanished. Then, as the water settled, I began to see light below the surface. A milky glow at first that separated into a thousand tiny stars, next becoming a slowly moving meteor trail behind the brightest cluster. The cluster rose and turned back on itself, and turned again to form a glittering figure of eight. Then it sunk downwards, disappearing for several seconds.
'What…?' I said, baffled and astonished and unable to think of anything better to say.
Françoise put her hand on my arm. 'Wait,' she whispered. 'Look now.'
Deep in the blackness the glow returned, but this time it quickly divided into seven or eight clusters, brighter than before. They flickered and darted, dissolving and shedding light, but somehow replenishing themselves and becoming more intense. I took an instinctive step backwards, suddenly aware that the miniature fireballs were travelling up towards me at an increasing speed. The next instant the surface broke into a flurry of bubbles and Keaty appeared, gasping for air.
'What did you think,' he spluttered between lungfuls. 'Did you ever see anything like it?'
'No…' I replied, still stupidly dazed.' …Never.'
'Phosphorescence. Minute creatures or algae or something. They glow when you make a movement.' He hauled himself on to the boulder. 'Phew! What an effort! We've been practising that all night. Trying to get the best display.'
'…It looked incredible… But… where do the creatures come from?'
'Daffy would say they come from the corals,' said Gregorio. 'It only happens on some nights. Not often. But now it is here, it will stay for the next few days. Maybe three or four.'
I shook my head. 'Amazing… Just amazing…'
'Ah-ha!' Étienne slapped me on the back and pushed Gregorio's diving mask into my hands. 'But there is still the best to see!'
'Underwater?'
'Yes! Put this on and follow me! I will show you something you could never imagine!'
'It'll blow your mind,' Keaty agreed. 'It's indescribable.'
Meanwhile I seethed about the papayas, and pretty soon I was very stoned and deeply involved in a fantasy about beating up Bugs. In its earliest form the fantasy started off as just me and him, but soon I decided I needed an audience to bear witness to his humiliation. I added Françoise, then Jed and Keaty, then Étienne and Greg, and eventually the whole camp.
It was a Sunday. It had to be a Sunday, because that was the only time you got the whole camp in one place. Most people were kicking a ball around, a few were swimming, and a few were playing Frisbee. I was standing with Françoise. We were sharing a joke when Bugs appeared from the tree-line with Sal, and three big papayas cradled in his arms. 'Got some more papayas,' he called. 'Enough for everyone.' 'Excuse me,' I said quietly to Françoise. 'Won't be a moment.' He caught my eye as I strode towards him and did a double-take, recognizing the purposeful nature of my step and the grim set of my mouth. First he looked alarmed, then arrogant. He was going to bluff it out, I realized.
'Yes,' he said loudly, holding up the fruit for all to see, and still watching me from the corner of his eye. 'Here are some more papayas that I found.'
I stopped a metre away from him. 'Papayas that you found, Bugs?'
'That's what I said.'
'Uh-huh. Then how about we take a walk down to the orchard… right now.'
His eyebrows flicked upwards.' …Now?'
'Now. And I'll show you the joint butt I left, when I found the orchard no less than two weeks ago !'
Everyone gasped, including Sal. A crowd had formed a circle around us and Françoise had come running over to stand by my side. 'Is this true?' she demanded angrily.
Bugs scoffed. 'Of course not! He's lying! I found the orchard!'
'So how about that walk?'
'I don't have to prove myself to you!'
'I think you do.'
'Up yours. I found the orchard. End of story.'
I smiled. 'You know what, Bugs…?' The silence was deathly, aside from the gentle lapping of the waves on the shore. 'You're kinda buggin' me!'
The crowd laughed and Bugs' face twisted with rage. 'Is that right?' he sneered. 'Well take this!' A papaya hurtled towards my head but I ducked and it flew past me into the crowd.
'Hey!' someone yelled. 'Watch it!'
Bugs swore and made as if he was about to throw another, but quick as a flash I grabbed the Frisbee from Cassie, who was standing beside me, and hurled it with lethal accuracy. The papaya exploded at the impact. The remaining chunks slithered from his hand and fell to the sand, harmless.
'Why you…' he started to say, but I was already on him. I faked with a left and floored him with a right. He dropped like a sack of potatoes.
Now he was scared. 'I'm thorry,' he yelped, holding a hand up to cup the blood splashing from his busted lips, 'lt'th true! I didn't find the papayath! Richard did!'
Slowly I bent down and picked the Frisbee up again, pausing to wipe away a few shreds of pulped papaya flesh. 'Too late for that, Bugs,' I muttered softly, almost kindly. 'Too late…'
He screamed but didn't move, paralysed with fear like a rabbit in headlights. The Frisbee shot down and connected squarely with the bridge of his nose, shattering the bone. Then he rolled on to his side and scrabbled weakly at the sand, trying to crawl away. I kicked him on the back of the head and gave him four hard punches in the kidney.
He whimpered. 'Pleathe,' he said. 'Don't.'
A bad choice of words. My temper rose. Looking around me I spotted a fishing spear.
'Rewind,' I said, taking the last drag from the joint. 'Can't do that.' I sucked until the tips of my fingers burned, then threw away the roach and rewound back to my first punch.
I faked with a left and floored him with a right. He dropped like a sack of potatoes.
'I'm thorry,' he yelped, 'lt'th true! I didn't find the papayath!'
'Say that again!' I shouted, looming over him with the Frisbee poised.
'I didn't find them! You did! I'm thorry!'
'Louder!'
'You found the papayath!'
I nodded curtly, and turned to Françoise. 'Just wanted to set the record straight.'
She glanced down at Bugs' twitching figure. 'Of course,' she said briefly.
'You want to swim out to the coral garden?'
'Yes, Richard,' she breathed, interlocking her arm with mine. 'I would love to.'
The fantasy might have happily continued from there, but the dead leaves and dirt under my feet had become sand. I'd reached the beach.
It took me ages to find Keaty and the others. Even with the moonlight I couldn't see them, and their laughter seemed to come from everywhere, spread evenly over the water and faintly echoing off the cliffs. But after twenty minutes of stoned wandering along the shore I finally pinned them down to a group of small boulders, a hundred metres out.
As I couldn't see them and they couldn't see me, I decided there wasn't much sense in calling out, so I slipped off my T-shirt and began swimming towards them. Gradually their figures became discernible in the darkness. They were all standing and bending over to look downwards into the water. Then – at roughly the moment I must have become visible to them – their laughter abruptly cut off, and as I got closer I saw that they had all turned to face my direction. 'Hey!' I said, finding their watchful silence a little eerie. 'What's up?' They didn't answer. I continued swimming and repeated the question, irrationally thinking they might not have heard me. When they didn't answer again I stopped, treading water ten feet from the boulder. 'Why aren't you answering me?' I said, puzzled.
'Look down,' Keaty replied after a moment or two.
I paused, then looked. The water was as black as ink, except for where the moonlight caught the ripples. '…What's to see?'
'He is too close,' I heard Étienne say.
'No,' said Keaty. 'Richard, move your hands, just under the surface.'
'OK…' I did as he said. From the boulder I heard Françoise sigh, but I still couldn't see anything past the blackness. 'I don't get it… What's this about?'
'Too close,' Étienne repeated.
Keaty's silhouette scratched its head.' Yeah, you're right… Come up on to the boulder, Richard. Watch me dive. We'll show you…'
At first I could see nothing but the disturbed water and reflected moonlight from where Keaty had vanished. Then, as the water settled, I began to see light below the surface. A milky glow at first that separated into a thousand tiny stars, next becoming a slowly moving meteor trail behind the brightest cluster. The cluster rose and turned back on itself, and turned again to form a glittering figure of eight. Then it sunk downwards, disappearing for several seconds.
'What…?' I said, baffled and astonished and unable to think of anything better to say.
Françoise put her hand on my arm. 'Wait,' she whispered. 'Look now.'
Deep in the blackness the glow returned, but this time it quickly divided into seven or eight clusters, brighter than before. They flickered and darted, dissolving and shedding light, but somehow replenishing themselves and becoming more intense. I took an instinctive step backwards, suddenly aware that the miniature fireballs were travelling up towards me at an increasing speed. The next instant the surface broke into a flurry of bubbles and Keaty appeared, gasping for air.
'What did you think,' he spluttered between lungfuls. 'Did you ever see anything like it?'
'No…' I replied, still stupidly dazed.' …Never.'
'Phosphorescence. Minute creatures or algae or something. They glow when you make a movement.' He hauled himself on to the boulder. 'Phew! What an effort! We've been practising that all night. Trying to get the best display.'
'…It looked incredible… But… where do the creatures come from?'
'Daffy would say they come from the corals,' said Gregorio. 'It only happens on some nights. Not often. But now it is here, it will stay for the next few days. Maybe three or four.'
I shook my head. 'Amazing… Just amazing…'
'Ah-ha!' Étienne slapped me on the back and pushed Gregorio's diving mask into my hands. 'But there is still the best to see!'
'Underwater?'
'Yes! Put this on and follow me! I will show you something you could never imagine!'
'It'll blow your mind,' Keaty agreed. 'It's indescribable.'
The DMZ
I returned Jed's binoculars to him and lay on my back. My head was still bleary from all the dope I'd smoked the night before, despite the brisk morning trek up the island, and I couldn't seem to focus on the tiny figures. 'Basically,' I said, folding my hands behind my head, 'it was like being in space. Floating with loads of stars and comets around you. One of the most amazing things was disturbing a shoal of fish…'
Jed readjusted the binoculars to suit him. 'I've seen phosphorescence before.'
'But not underwater.'
'No. Underwater sounds good.'
'Yeah. Really good…' I sighed. '…Did I tell you about Bugs and the papayas?'
'Nope.'
'I found a papaya orchard a couple of weeks ago, and now Bugs is making out like he found it. Granted, I couldn't remember the orchard's exact location, but it was me who found it first.' I sat up to see how Jed was reacting. He didn't appear to be reacting at all. 'I suppose it isn't that big a deal. What do you think?'
'Mmm,' Jed replied absently.
'Mmm—it is a big deal, or mmm—it isn't?'
'Oh… probably…'
I gave up. This was, after all, the precise problem with Bugs. Unless you were tuned in to the subtleties of his character, you couldn't appreciate how irritating he was. I lay back down again and looked up at the clouds, feeling frustrated.
Actually, I'd been feeling frustrated for quite some time. It had started when we'd arrived at our look-out post two hours earlier, to find, yet again, that Zeph and Sammy were still on their same patch of beach. I was aware that this should have been cause for relief but instead it had got on my nerves, and as the morning passed I'd thought carefully about this paradox. My first guess was that it was connected to the uncertainty of the situation. I'd become tired of the waiting and I wanted some kind of resolution to occur. Even if it was the worst-case scenario and they set off towards us, at least the situation would become tangible. It would be something it was in our power to affect.
But it didn't take long for me to realize that my first guess was wrong. In the process of working through the worst-case scenario, I inevitably worked through the best-case. I imagined Zeph and Sammy disappearing, going back to Ko Pha-Ngan or Phelong, and my never seeing them again. It was at that point I realized my mistake, because what I registered, whilst entertaining this optimistic thought, was disappointment. The strange truth was that I didn't want them to leave. Neither, as the root of my frustration, did I want them to stay put. And that left only one possibility: The worst-case scenario was the best-case scenario. I wanted them to come.
'Bored,' I murmured, carelessly, and Jed laughed.
'Bored is good, Richard,' he said. 'Bored is safe.'
I paused. I hadn't mentioned my thoughts about Zeph and Sammy yet, assuming that Jed wouldn't take them too well. But I wasn't sure. It was possible that he felt the same way. I knew he took pleasure from evading the dope guards, part of which had to be a danger buzz, and I hadn't forgotten the way Keaty used to talk about him. I decided to obliquely test the water.
'Jed,' I said, yawning to reinforce the casual nature of the question. 'You remember the Gulf War?'
'Course.'
'I was just wondering… You remember the build-up? When we were saying get out of Kuwait or we cream you, and Saddam was saying whatever he was saying.'
'He was saying «no», wasn't he?'
'Right.' I leant on my elbows. 'So I was just wondering, how were you feeling at the time?'
'Feeling?'
'About the build-up to the Gulf War.'
Jed lowered the binoculars and rubbed his beard. 'I was feeling that it was all a load of hypocritical bullshit, if I remember correctly.'
'No, I meant about the possibility of there being a war. Did it bother you much?'
'Uh… not really.'
'You weren't sort of… looking forward to it?'
'Looking forward to it?'
'Yeah… Speaking personally…' I took a deep breath. '…I was kind of hoping Saddam wouldn't back down… You know, just to see what would happen.'
Jed narrowed his eyes. 'Now, Richard,' he said. 'I can't imagine why you've suddenly brought this up.'
I felt my cheeks flush. 'I can't either. It popped into my head for some reason.'
'Uh-huh. Well, I suppose I was looking forward to the Gulf War in a way. It was all dramatic and exciting and, like you said, I wanted to see what would happen. But when I saw the pictures of the Basra road and that civilian shelter that got hit, I felt pretty shit. I felt like I'd missed the point, and only got it too late. Does that answer your question?'
'Oh yes,' I said quickly. 'Absolutely.'
'Good.' Jed chuckled. 'So, Richard, you're bored.'
'Not bored…'
'Listless.'
'Maybe.'
'Whatever. You want some excitement. Fine. Perhaps we should go and nick some grass.'
'We?' I said, stammering slightly because I was both eager and surprised. Since I'd begun working with Jed he'd only gone dope collecting once, and he'd left me behind at our look-out spot. 'You mean both of us?'
'Sure. We've got plenty of time to come back here later, and we can take the chance they won't do anything while we're away. Anyway, I noticed camp supplies are getting low.'
'I think it's a great idea!'
'OK.' He stood up. 'Come on then.'
The pass between the island's two peaks was the one position from which you could clearly make out the location of the dope fields, although the fields themselves were obscured behind trees. The only thing you could see were sudden dips in the canopy where one terrace dropped down to another. From higher up the terraces seemed to merge into a single slope with occasional – natural-looking – breaks in the canopy, an illusion caused by the elevated angle. I guess it stopped them being spotted from the air.
Once we reached the pass, Jed made the closed-fingers pointing gesture and we began our descent into the DMZ – as I'd decided to call it. While we walked, I watched Jed's feet closely. I'd noticed he was able to walk much more quietly than me, even though we were both treading on the same mixture of dead leaves and twigs, and I was determined to discover how he did it. One thing was that he used the flat of his foot instead of the ball. I'd been doing the opposite, simply because my instinct was to walk on tiptoe when trying to move without noise. But after watching him, I realized that my way lacked common sense. By spreading the pressure across his whole foot he put less weight on twigs and flattened an area of leaves instead of just one or two. When I swapped to his method, I heard the change immediately. The other thing he did was to lift his feet quite high, so that they weren't skimming just above the surface of the ground and catching loose material.
In order to press these lessons home, I played a private game as we crept through the DMZ. If I snapped a twig then I'd triggered a land-mine, and if I rustled a leaf above a particular volume—a rustle that couldn't pass as a regular jungle sound – then I'd been shot by a sniper. I also decided that the spider-web strands which occasionally stretched across the path were Claymores, and took care to step over them if they hadn't already been broken by Jed. In deference to video games I gave myself three lives, allowing an extra life if I saw any animal larger than a beetle before it saw me. The only flaw to the game was that there was no punishment if I lost all my lives – as I did several times. But the shame was punishment enough, and that one flaw aside, the game proved to be excellent.
I was enjoying myself so much that I was a bit pissed off when we reached the dope field. At the edge we crouched in silence for several minutes, checking that the coast was clear. Then Jed turned to me. 'OK,' he mouthed, pointing at me. 'You go.'
I raised my eyebrows and touched my chest, and he nodded. I grinned and gave him the thumbs up. Then I hunched down as low as I could go without being on all fours, and scuttled forwards.
Between the trees and the start of the dope field was a space of at least three metres, well beaten down where the guards made their patrol. Once clear of the trees I looked both ways and sped across the gap. I was mindful that a guard might appear at any moment, so I wasted no time in trying to pull off a few good-sized branches. But I immediately ran into difficulty. The stems of the marijuana were remarkably tough. I twisted and ripped, as quietly as I could, but was completely unable to get them free of the main stalk. Worse, my hands were sweating like mad and infuriatingly slippery, and I couldn't get a proper grip. I looked back at Jed, who had a hand clamped to his head in despair.
'What do I do?' I mouthed.
He held up his knife, waving the point sarcastically. I realized I'd scuttled off before he'd had a chance to give it to me. Cursing my haste I cupped my hands, indicating he should throw it. The knife came sailing through the air and finally I was able to sever the troublesome stems. In order to compensate for the fuck-up I hung around a minute longer than I had to, so I could return with a particularly daring sized bunch.
'What's the matter, Richard?' said Jed, when we'd got back to the safety of our look-out position. 'I thought you'd be happy after all that excitement.' He patted me affectionately on the back. 'I thought you'd be singing that ridiculous mouse song.'
I shook my head and laid out my bushel. 'I'm fine, Jed.'
'It wasn't that thing with the knife, was it? That was my fault, you know, not yours. I told you to go before I'd given it to you.'
'No, no. The knife thing didn't bother me… not much anyway… and it wasn't your fault. I should have stopped to think. But I'm fine, really.'
Jed seemed unconvinced. 'I know what it is. You wanted to spot some of the guards, right?'
'Well…' I shrugged. 'It would have been interesting.'
'I don't know, Richard. You get disappointed by all the wrong things. Listen, take it from me, you're glad we didn't run into anyone.'
'Sure…' I thought for a moment, idly plucking at a couple of buds.' …Out of curiosity, what do you think would happen if they were to find us?
'Mmm… don't know. Rather not find out.'
'Do you think they'd kill us?'
'It's possible. In a way I doubt it though, because there'd be no sense to it. They know we 're here and vice versa, and neither of us wants our secrets to get discovered, so…'
'I heard that Daffy once talked to them.'
Jed looked surprised. 'Who told you that?'
'Uh… Greg, I think.'
'I think maybe Greg has that wrong. Sal would have told me if there'd been any contact with them, and she never has.'
'Oh… So what if they caught Zeph and Sammy? That would be different, because they're not connected to us.'
'Yeah. They might kill Zeph and Sammy.'
'That would solve our problem at least,' I suggested cautiously, waiting for Jed to say something disapproving, but he didn't. He just nodded.
'Yep,' he said bluntly. 'It would.'
Jed readjusted the binoculars to suit him. 'I've seen phosphorescence before.'
'But not underwater.'
'No. Underwater sounds good.'
'Yeah. Really good…' I sighed. '…Did I tell you about Bugs and the papayas?'
'Nope.'
'I found a papaya orchard a couple of weeks ago, and now Bugs is making out like he found it. Granted, I couldn't remember the orchard's exact location, but it was me who found it first.' I sat up to see how Jed was reacting. He didn't appear to be reacting at all. 'I suppose it isn't that big a deal. What do you think?'
'Mmm,' Jed replied absently.
'Mmm—it is a big deal, or mmm—it isn't?'
'Oh… probably…'
I gave up. This was, after all, the precise problem with Bugs. Unless you were tuned in to the subtleties of his character, you couldn't appreciate how irritating he was. I lay back down again and looked up at the clouds, feeling frustrated.
Actually, I'd been feeling frustrated for quite some time. It had started when we'd arrived at our look-out post two hours earlier, to find, yet again, that Zeph and Sammy were still on their same patch of beach. I was aware that this should have been cause for relief but instead it had got on my nerves, and as the morning passed I'd thought carefully about this paradox. My first guess was that it was connected to the uncertainty of the situation. I'd become tired of the waiting and I wanted some kind of resolution to occur. Even if it was the worst-case scenario and they set off towards us, at least the situation would become tangible. It would be something it was in our power to affect.
But it didn't take long for me to realize that my first guess was wrong. In the process of working through the worst-case scenario, I inevitably worked through the best-case. I imagined Zeph and Sammy disappearing, going back to Ko Pha-Ngan or Phelong, and my never seeing them again. It was at that point I realized my mistake, because what I registered, whilst entertaining this optimistic thought, was disappointment. The strange truth was that I didn't want them to leave. Neither, as the root of my frustration, did I want them to stay put. And that left only one possibility: The worst-case scenario was the best-case scenario. I wanted them to come.
'Bored,' I murmured, carelessly, and Jed laughed.
'Bored is good, Richard,' he said. 'Bored is safe.'
I paused. I hadn't mentioned my thoughts about Zeph and Sammy yet, assuming that Jed wouldn't take them too well. But I wasn't sure. It was possible that he felt the same way. I knew he took pleasure from evading the dope guards, part of which had to be a danger buzz, and I hadn't forgotten the way Keaty used to talk about him. I decided to obliquely test the water.
'Jed,' I said, yawning to reinforce the casual nature of the question. 'You remember the Gulf War?'
'Course.'
'I was just wondering… You remember the build-up? When we were saying get out of Kuwait or we cream you, and Saddam was saying whatever he was saying.'
'He was saying «no», wasn't he?'
'Right.' I leant on my elbows. 'So I was just wondering, how were you feeling at the time?'
'Feeling?'
'About the build-up to the Gulf War.'
Jed lowered the binoculars and rubbed his beard. 'I was feeling that it was all a load of hypocritical bullshit, if I remember correctly.'
'No, I meant about the possibility of there being a war. Did it bother you much?'
'Uh… not really.'
'You weren't sort of… looking forward to it?'
'Looking forward to it?'
'Yeah… Speaking personally…' I took a deep breath. '…I was kind of hoping Saddam wouldn't back down… You know, just to see what would happen.'
Jed narrowed his eyes. 'Now, Richard,' he said. 'I can't imagine why you've suddenly brought this up.'
I felt my cheeks flush. 'I can't either. It popped into my head for some reason.'
'Uh-huh. Well, I suppose I was looking forward to the Gulf War in a way. It was all dramatic and exciting and, like you said, I wanted to see what would happen. But when I saw the pictures of the Basra road and that civilian shelter that got hit, I felt pretty shit. I felt like I'd missed the point, and only got it too late. Does that answer your question?'
'Oh yes,' I said quickly. 'Absolutely.'
'Good.' Jed chuckled. 'So, Richard, you're bored.'
'Not bored…'
'Listless.'
'Maybe.'
'Whatever. You want some excitement. Fine. Perhaps we should go and nick some grass.'
'We?' I said, stammering slightly because I was both eager and surprised. Since I'd begun working with Jed he'd only gone dope collecting once, and he'd left me behind at our look-out spot. 'You mean both of us?'
'Sure. We've got plenty of time to come back here later, and we can take the chance they won't do anything while we're away. Anyway, I noticed camp supplies are getting low.'
'I think it's a great idea!'
'OK.' He stood up. 'Come on then.'
The pass between the island's two peaks was the one position from which you could clearly make out the location of the dope fields, although the fields themselves were obscured behind trees. The only thing you could see were sudden dips in the canopy where one terrace dropped down to another. From higher up the terraces seemed to merge into a single slope with occasional – natural-looking – breaks in the canopy, an illusion caused by the elevated angle. I guess it stopped them being spotted from the air.
Once we reached the pass, Jed made the closed-fingers pointing gesture and we began our descent into the DMZ – as I'd decided to call it. While we walked, I watched Jed's feet closely. I'd noticed he was able to walk much more quietly than me, even though we were both treading on the same mixture of dead leaves and twigs, and I was determined to discover how he did it. One thing was that he used the flat of his foot instead of the ball. I'd been doing the opposite, simply because my instinct was to walk on tiptoe when trying to move without noise. But after watching him, I realized that my way lacked common sense. By spreading the pressure across his whole foot he put less weight on twigs and flattened an area of leaves instead of just one or two. When I swapped to his method, I heard the change immediately. The other thing he did was to lift his feet quite high, so that they weren't skimming just above the surface of the ground and catching loose material.
In order to press these lessons home, I played a private game as we crept through the DMZ. If I snapped a twig then I'd triggered a land-mine, and if I rustled a leaf above a particular volume—a rustle that couldn't pass as a regular jungle sound – then I'd been shot by a sniper. I also decided that the spider-web strands which occasionally stretched across the path were Claymores, and took care to step over them if they hadn't already been broken by Jed. In deference to video games I gave myself three lives, allowing an extra life if I saw any animal larger than a beetle before it saw me. The only flaw to the game was that there was no punishment if I lost all my lives – as I did several times. But the shame was punishment enough, and that one flaw aside, the game proved to be excellent.
I was enjoying myself so much that I was a bit pissed off when we reached the dope field. At the edge we crouched in silence for several minutes, checking that the coast was clear. Then Jed turned to me. 'OK,' he mouthed, pointing at me. 'You go.'
I raised my eyebrows and touched my chest, and he nodded. I grinned and gave him the thumbs up. Then I hunched down as low as I could go without being on all fours, and scuttled forwards.
Between the trees and the start of the dope field was a space of at least three metres, well beaten down where the guards made their patrol. Once clear of the trees I looked both ways and sped across the gap. I was mindful that a guard might appear at any moment, so I wasted no time in trying to pull off a few good-sized branches. But I immediately ran into difficulty. The stems of the marijuana were remarkably tough. I twisted and ripped, as quietly as I could, but was completely unable to get them free of the main stalk. Worse, my hands were sweating like mad and infuriatingly slippery, and I couldn't get a proper grip. I looked back at Jed, who had a hand clamped to his head in despair.
'What do I do?' I mouthed.
He held up his knife, waving the point sarcastically. I realized I'd scuttled off before he'd had a chance to give it to me. Cursing my haste I cupped my hands, indicating he should throw it. The knife came sailing through the air and finally I was able to sever the troublesome stems. In order to compensate for the fuck-up I hung around a minute longer than I had to, so I could return with a particularly daring sized bunch.
'What's the matter, Richard?' said Jed, when we'd got back to the safety of our look-out position. 'I thought you'd be happy after all that excitement.' He patted me affectionately on the back. 'I thought you'd be singing that ridiculous mouse song.'
I shook my head and laid out my bushel. 'I'm fine, Jed.'
'It wasn't that thing with the knife, was it? That was my fault, you know, not yours. I told you to go before I'd given it to you.'
'No, no. The knife thing didn't bother me… not much anyway… and it wasn't your fault. I should have stopped to think. But I'm fine, really.'
Jed seemed unconvinced. 'I know what it is. You wanted to spot some of the guards, right?'
'Well…' I shrugged. 'It would have been interesting.'
'I don't know, Richard. You get disappointed by all the wrong things. Listen, take it from me, you're glad we didn't run into anyone.'
'Sure…' I thought for a moment, idly plucking at a couple of buds.' …Out of curiosity, what do you think would happen if they were to find us?
'Mmm… don't know. Rather not find out.'
'Do you think they'd kill us?'
'It's possible. In a way I doubt it though, because there'd be no sense to it. They know we 're here and vice versa, and neither of us wants our secrets to get discovered, so…'
'I heard that Daffy once talked to them.'
Jed looked surprised. 'Who told you that?'
'Uh… Greg, I think.'
'I think maybe Greg has that wrong. Sal would have told me if there'd been any contact with them, and she never has.'
'Oh… So what if they caught Zeph and Sammy? That would be different, because they're not connected to us.'
'Yeah. They might kill Zeph and Sammy.'
'That would solve our problem at least,' I suggested cautiously, waiting for Jed to say something disapproving, but he didn't. He just nodded.
'Yep,' he said bluntly. 'It would.'
Zombie Fish-Eaters
It was dark by the time we got our act together. We had to jump into pitch blackness, unable to see the edges of the pool or even the white foam where the waterfall landed. Then we had to find our way through the forest, something I'd have found difficult without Jed to guide me.
My plan was to eat some food quickly and spend the rest of the evening swimming in the phosphorescence. I also wanted to tell my friends about the sleeping dope guard, which had slipped my mind in the excitement of the previous night. But when I got to the kitchen hut, I discovered that our banana-leaf food parcels were missing. All I found was a cold pile of boiled rice. Next, I hunted for the big cooking pot, assuming Unhygienix had just forgotten to lay the fish and veg out, but the pot was empty too. That was strange because usually the cooks kept some dregs for the next morning's breakfast. Pensively, I patted my empty stomach and looked around me. Then I noticed something else, even more strange. Apart from Jed, who was sitting a few metres away, the clearing seemed to be completely empty. I couldn't see any joint-butts glowing in the darkness, or torches inside tents.
I walked over to Jed. 'You notice anything weird?' I said.
He shrugged. 'Only that I can't see my food.'
'Well… exactly. There isn't any food. And there aren't any people either.'
'People?' Jed shone his Maglite around him.
'See what I mean?'
'…Yeah.' He stood up. 'That is weird…'
We gazed about us for a few seconds, following the yellow beam.
Then, from somewhere close by there was a loud moan, clearly the sound of someone in pain.
'Jesus!' Jed whispered, and switched off the light. 'Did you hear that?'
'Of course I did!'
'Who was it?'
'How should I know?'
We paused, listening carefully. Then we heard the moan again and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
'Christ, Jed! Put the torch back on! This is making me nervous!'
'…If you're nervous, why are you smiling?'
'…How did you know I was smiling?'
'I could hear it in your voice.'
'Just put the bloody light back on!'
'No,' he hissed. 'We don't know what's going on yet.'
We listened some more. I remembered my first morning on the beach, waking up after my fever to an empty clearing. I'd found it pretty freaky in broad daylight. There was something unsettling about an empty place that you knew should be full of people. In the blackness with the eerie moans it was ten times as bad.
'This is like a zombie film,' I muttered darkly, and giggled. 'Zombie Flesh-Eaters.' Jed didn't reply.
The next time we heard the moan we were able to place it. It was coming from our left, around where most of the tents were pitched.
'OK,' said Jed. 'We'll investigate. You take point.'
'Me? You've got the torch!'
'I need to hold it so you've got both your hands free.'
'Free for what?'
'Fighting off the zombies.'
Jed flicked the beam on and illuminated Unhygienix's tent, so I mumbled a swear-word and began slowly walking towards it.
I'd only gone a few feet when the flap opened and Ella's head poked out. 'Jed?' she said, squinting against the glare.
'Richard.'
'And Jed. What's going on, Ella?'
She shook her head. 'Come inside. It's a disaster.'
'It was Keaty,' Ella explained, mopping at Unhygienix's forehead. It had been Unhygienix who was moaning, and he continued to do so while we were talking. His eyes were closed and he was clutching his great brown belly in both hands. I don't think he was even aware we were in the tent. 'That idiot.'
I raised my eyebrows. 'Why? What did he do?'
'He put a squid in one of the fishing buckets, and we chopped it up and chucked it in with everything else.'
'So?'
'The squid was already dead when he speared it.'
Jed sucked in his breath sharply.
'Most of the camp are sick. The bathroom hut is clogged with vomit, and you don't want to go near the Khyber Pass.'
'What about you?' I asked. 'You seem OK.'
'Five or six of us are all right. I've got a few pains, but it looks like I've been lucky.'
'And why did Keaty spear a dead squid?'
Ella narrowed her eyes. 'I'd like to ask him that myself. We'd all like to ask him that.'
'Yeah… Where is he? In his tent?'
'Maybe.'
'OK. Well, I'll go and see him…'
I chose the right moment to leave because as I was backing out, Unhygienix sat bolt upright and vomited everywhere. I vanished quickly into the darkness with Ella's furious screams ringing in my ears.
It took me ages to find Keaty. He wasn't in his tent and there was no response in the clearing when I called his name. Eventually I decided to check the beach, where I spotted him, sitting in a patch of moonlight a little way down the shore.
When he saw me coming towards him he made a movement, as if he were half considering running away. Then he relaxed and his shoulders slumped. 'Hi,' he said in a low voice.
I nodded and sat beside him.
'I'm not flavour of the month, Rich.'
'…Neither is squid.'
He didn't laugh.
'So what happened?'
'Don't you know? I poisoned the camp.'
'Yeah, but…'
'I was using Greg's mask, I saw this squid, we've eaten squid a hundred times before, so I speared it and chucked it in the bucket. How was I supposed to know it was already dead?'
'…Because it wasn't moving.'
He glared at me. 'Well I know that now! But I thought… I thought squid were like jellyfish. They just floated around and… and its arms looked like they were moving…'
'So it was a mistake. It wasn't your fault.'
'Yes, Rich. That's right. It was Jean's fault.' He paused to punch the sand between his legs. 'Of course it was my fucking fault!Jesus !
'OK… it was your fault, but you shouldn't…'
'Rich,' he interrupted. 'Please.'
I shrugged and looked away. Across the lagoon, the moonlight was catching the jagged fissure that ran down the cliffs to the coral garden. 'Kapow,' I said quietly.
Keaty leant forward. 'What?'
'Kapow.'
'…Why?'
'Just because that's the sound lightning makes.' I pointed at the fissure. 'See?'
My plan was to eat some food quickly and spend the rest of the evening swimming in the phosphorescence. I also wanted to tell my friends about the sleeping dope guard, which had slipped my mind in the excitement of the previous night. But when I got to the kitchen hut, I discovered that our banana-leaf food parcels were missing. All I found was a cold pile of boiled rice. Next, I hunted for the big cooking pot, assuming Unhygienix had just forgotten to lay the fish and veg out, but the pot was empty too. That was strange because usually the cooks kept some dregs for the next morning's breakfast. Pensively, I patted my empty stomach and looked around me. Then I noticed something else, even more strange. Apart from Jed, who was sitting a few metres away, the clearing seemed to be completely empty. I couldn't see any joint-butts glowing in the darkness, or torches inside tents.
I walked over to Jed. 'You notice anything weird?' I said.
He shrugged. 'Only that I can't see my food.'
'Well… exactly. There isn't any food. And there aren't any people either.'
'People?' Jed shone his Maglite around him.
'See what I mean?'
'…Yeah.' He stood up. 'That is weird…'
We gazed about us for a few seconds, following the yellow beam.
Then, from somewhere close by there was a loud moan, clearly the sound of someone in pain.
'Jesus!' Jed whispered, and switched off the light. 'Did you hear that?'
'Of course I did!'
'Who was it?'
'How should I know?'
We paused, listening carefully. Then we heard the moan again and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
'Christ, Jed! Put the torch back on! This is making me nervous!'
'…If you're nervous, why are you smiling?'
'…How did you know I was smiling?'
'I could hear it in your voice.'
'Just put the bloody light back on!'
'No,' he hissed. 'We don't know what's going on yet.'
We listened some more. I remembered my first morning on the beach, waking up after my fever to an empty clearing. I'd found it pretty freaky in broad daylight. There was something unsettling about an empty place that you knew should be full of people. In the blackness with the eerie moans it was ten times as bad.
'This is like a zombie film,' I muttered darkly, and giggled. 'Zombie Flesh-Eaters.' Jed didn't reply.
The next time we heard the moan we were able to place it. It was coming from our left, around where most of the tents were pitched.
'OK,' said Jed. 'We'll investigate. You take point.'
'Me? You've got the torch!'
'I need to hold it so you've got both your hands free.'
'Free for what?'
'Fighting off the zombies.'
Jed flicked the beam on and illuminated Unhygienix's tent, so I mumbled a swear-word and began slowly walking towards it.
I'd only gone a few feet when the flap opened and Ella's head poked out. 'Jed?' she said, squinting against the glare.
'Richard.'
'And Jed. What's going on, Ella?'
She shook her head. 'Come inside. It's a disaster.'
'It was Keaty,' Ella explained, mopping at Unhygienix's forehead. It had been Unhygienix who was moaning, and he continued to do so while we were talking. His eyes were closed and he was clutching his great brown belly in both hands. I don't think he was even aware we were in the tent. 'That idiot.'
I raised my eyebrows. 'Why? What did he do?'
'He put a squid in one of the fishing buckets, and we chopped it up and chucked it in with everything else.'
'So?'
'The squid was already dead when he speared it.'
Jed sucked in his breath sharply.
'Most of the camp are sick. The bathroom hut is clogged with vomit, and you don't want to go near the Khyber Pass.'
'What about you?' I asked. 'You seem OK.'
'Five or six of us are all right. I've got a few pains, but it looks like I've been lucky.'
'And why did Keaty spear a dead squid?'
Ella narrowed her eyes. 'I'd like to ask him that myself. We'd all like to ask him that.'
'Yeah… Where is he? In his tent?'
'Maybe.'
'OK. Well, I'll go and see him…'
I chose the right moment to leave because as I was backing out, Unhygienix sat bolt upright and vomited everywhere. I vanished quickly into the darkness with Ella's furious screams ringing in my ears.
It took me ages to find Keaty. He wasn't in his tent and there was no response in the clearing when I called his name. Eventually I decided to check the beach, where I spotted him, sitting in a patch of moonlight a little way down the shore.
When he saw me coming towards him he made a movement, as if he were half considering running away. Then he relaxed and his shoulders slumped. 'Hi,' he said in a low voice.
I nodded and sat beside him.
'I'm not flavour of the month, Rich.'
'…Neither is squid.'
He didn't laugh.
'So what happened?'
'Don't you know? I poisoned the camp.'
'Yeah, but…'
'I was using Greg's mask, I saw this squid, we've eaten squid a hundred times before, so I speared it and chucked it in the bucket. How was I supposed to know it was already dead?'
'…Because it wasn't moving.'
He glared at me. 'Well I know that now! But I thought… I thought squid were like jellyfish. They just floated around and… and its arms looked like they were moving…'
'So it was a mistake. It wasn't your fault.'
'Yes, Rich. That's right. It was Jean's fault.' He paused to punch the sand between his legs. 'Of course it was my fucking fault!Jesus !
'OK… it was your fault, but you shouldn't…'
'Rich,' he interrupted. 'Please.'
I shrugged and looked away. Across the lagoon, the moonlight was catching the jagged fissure that ran down the cliffs to the coral garden. 'Kapow,' I said quietly.
Keaty leant forward. 'What?'
'Kapow.'
'…Why?'
'Just because that's the sound lightning makes.' I pointed at the fissure. 'See?'
Bedlam
I only stayed with Keaty a short while because I wanted to check on Étienne and Françoise. He wouldn't come with me because he said he wasn't ready to face people yet, the poor guy. It was rough to have fought for so long to get on to the fishing detail and then to have been responsible for such a fuck-up. He felt especially guilty that he'd been one of the few unaffected by the squid. I tried to tell him not to be so daft because he could hardly blame himself for having a good immune system, but it didn't do any good.
When I saw what was happening inside the longhouse, I was glad Keaty had decided to stay behind. The scene inside would only have made him feel worse. I'd had no idea that the effects of the food poisoning had been so severe, and actually I doubted Keaty had realized either, or he'd have been back at the camp helping.
Running all the way down the centre of the room were candles, placed there, I guessed, to keep them from being kicked over by the writhing figures on the beds. Through the burning-wax fumes there was the sour smell of vomit. Everybody was moaning – probably not constantly, but there were enough of them to overlap and keep the noise at a steady level – and everybody seemed to have reverted to their own language. Picking out recognizable words in the meaningless babble made everything all the more surreal. People wanted water or the sick to be wiped off their chests. When I passed Jesse he lunged for my foot and asked me to carry him to the bathroom hut. 'I've got shit all over my fucking legs!' he gasped incredulously. 'All over! Look!'
I spotted Cassie and Moshe darting between the beds, hopelessly trying to attend to all the different requests. When Cassie saw me she made a despairing motion with her arms and said, 'Are they dying?'
I shook my head.
'How do you know, Richard?'
'They're not dying.'
'How do you know ?'
'I don't.' I shook my head again. 'Jesse's calling for you.'
Cassie ran to check on her boyfriend and I continued down the longhouse towards Françoise and Étienne.
Françoise was the worst off – I think. Étienne was asleep, so I suppose he might have been unconscious, but he was breathing steadily and his forehead didn't feel too hot. Françoise, however, was awake and in a great deal of pain. The cramps seemed to come in regular waves about sixty seconds apart. She didn't cry out like everybody else but she bit her bottom lip, and all over her stomach were marks from where she'd been digging her fingernails.
'Stop doing that,' I said firmly, after she'd nearly drawn blood from biting so hard.
She looked at me through dull eyes.' …Richard?'
'Yes. You're chewing your mouth to pieces… You shouldn't.'
'It hurts.'
'I can see, but… Here.' I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cigarettes. Then I ripped off the top of the box and pressed it flat. 'You can bite on that instead.'
'It still hurts.'
I smoothed her damp hair away from her face. 'I know it does, but this way you get to keep your lips.'
'Oh.' She managed to look faintly amused. She might even have managed a smile if another pain-wave hadn't come.
'What is happening, Richard?' she asked, when her muscles had relaxed.
'You've got food poisoning.'
'I mean, what is happening now?'
'Well…' I looked down the longhouse. I wasn't sure how to answer in case I frightened her. 'People are chucking up, and… Moshe and Cassie are here…'
'Do you think this is serious for us?'
'No, no,' I replied, laughing encouragingly. 'You'll all be much better tomorrow. You'll all be fine.'
'Richard…'
'Uh-huh?'
'When Étienne and I were in Sumatra, someone died from eating bad shellfish.'
I nodded slowly. 'Yes, but they probably ate the whole thing. You would have only had a tiny little bit, so you'll be OK.'
'Really?'
'Sure.'
She sighed. 'Good… Richard, I need some water… Please will you bring me some?'
'Of course. I'll be back in two minutes.'
As I stood up, the cramps came back again. I watched her for a moment, uncertain whether I should go or wait with her until the pain had passed, then I jogged down the longhouse, ignoring the pleas I passed on the way.
When I saw what was happening inside the longhouse, I was glad Keaty had decided to stay behind. The scene inside would only have made him feel worse. I'd had no idea that the effects of the food poisoning had been so severe, and actually I doubted Keaty had realized either, or he'd have been back at the camp helping.
Running all the way down the centre of the room were candles, placed there, I guessed, to keep them from being kicked over by the writhing figures on the beds. Through the burning-wax fumes there was the sour smell of vomit. Everybody was moaning – probably not constantly, but there were enough of them to overlap and keep the noise at a steady level – and everybody seemed to have reverted to their own language. Picking out recognizable words in the meaningless babble made everything all the more surreal. People wanted water or the sick to be wiped off their chests. When I passed Jesse he lunged for my foot and asked me to carry him to the bathroom hut. 'I've got shit all over my fucking legs!' he gasped incredulously. 'All over! Look!'
I spotted Cassie and Moshe darting between the beds, hopelessly trying to attend to all the different requests. When Cassie saw me she made a despairing motion with her arms and said, 'Are they dying?'
I shook my head.
'How do you know, Richard?'
'They're not dying.'
'How do you know ?'
'I don't.' I shook my head again. 'Jesse's calling for you.'
Cassie ran to check on her boyfriend and I continued down the longhouse towards Françoise and Étienne.
Françoise was the worst off – I think. Étienne was asleep, so I suppose he might have been unconscious, but he was breathing steadily and his forehead didn't feel too hot. Françoise, however, was awake and in a great deal of pain. The cramps seemed to come in regular waves about sixty seconds apart. She didn't cry out like everybody else but she bit her bottom lip, and all over her stomach were marks from where she'd been digging her fingernails.
'Stop doing that,' I said firmly, after she'd nearly drawn blood from biting so hard.
She looked at me through dull eyes.' …Richard?'
'Yes. You're chewing your mouth to pieces… You shouldn't.'
'It hurts.'
'I can see, but… Here.' I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cigarettes. Then I ripped off the top of the box and pressed it flat. 'You can bite on that instead.'
'It still hurts.'
I smoothed her damp hair away from her face. 'I know it does, but this way you get to keep your lips.'
'Oh.' She managed to look faintly amused. She might even have managed a smile if another pain-wave hadn't come.
'What is happening, Richard?' she asked, when her muscles had relaxed.
'You've got food poisoning.'
'I mean, what is happening now?'
'Well…' I looked down the longhouse. I wasn't sure how to answer in case I frightened her. 'People are chucking up, and… Moshe and Cassie are here…'
'Do you think this is serious for us?'
'No, no,' I replied, laughing encouragingly. 'You'll all be much better tomorrow. You'll all be fine.'
'Richard…'
'Uh-huh?'
'When Étienne and I were in Sumatra, someone died from eating bad shellfish.'
I nodded slowly. 'Yes, but they probably ate the whole thing. You would have only had a tiny little bit, so you'll be OK.'
'Really?'
'Sure.'
She sighed. 'Good… Richard, I need some water… Please will you bring me some?'
'Of course. I'll be back in two minutes.'
As I stood up, the cramps came back again. I watched her for a moment, uncertain whether I should go or wait with her until the pain had passed, then I jogged down the longhouse, ignoring the pleas I passed on the way.
Incubus
Unexpectedly, I found Jed sitting outside the kitchen hut, eating plain rice with his Maglite up-ended in front of him like an electric candle. He held out his bowl as I approached and mumbled, 'You should eat,' spraying a fan of white flecks into the light.
'I'm not hungry. Have you seen inside the longhouse?'
He swallowed. 'Stuck my head round the door, saw enough not to go in. Got plenty to deal with in the tents.'
'What's happening in the tents?'
'Same as the longhouse. The Swedes seem OK, but the others are fucked.'
'Are you worried?'
'Are you?'
'I'm not sure. Françoise said people can die from this stuff.'
'Mmm. They can.' He took another mouthful and chewed carefully. 'We need to keep them tanked up with loads of water. Can't let them get dehydrated. And we need to keep ourselves fit so we can look after them. That's why you should eat some food. You haven't eaten since this morning.'
'Later,' I said, thinking of Françoise, and scooped a pitcher into the drinking-water barrel. 'And if the Swedes are OK, then tell them to come and help.'
Jed nodded, his cheeks too puffed up to speak, and I set off back across the clearing.
Back inside the longhouse, Bugs was metaphorically and literally losing his shit. He was squatting alongside the line of candles, eyes bulging like cue-balls, whilst a pool of faeces collected around his feet. Moshe was standing a few feet away, gagging, and when he saw me he hurriedly moved away, as if having seen Bugs I'd been tagged with the responsibility of dealing with him.
Bugs groaned. A string of drool looped out of his mouth and swung crazily from his chin. 'Richard,' he spluttered. 'Get me outside.'
I looked around. Cassie was several beds away and Moshe was bent over one of the Yugoslavian girls. 'I'm in a hurry,' I replied, covering my nose and mouth with the crook of my arm.
'What?'
'I'm in a hurry. I've got to get this water to Françoise.'
'I've got to get outside! She can wait!'
I shook my head, then grimaced. The smell was so bad it was making me feel giddy.
'She already has waited,' I said.
His face contorted as though he was going to yell at me. I looked at him impassively while he held the expression, then he gurgled and another stream of shit splashed on to the ground. 'No!' he wailed, then his legs buckled and he slipped backwards.
I took a step sideways to keep clear of the spreading dark puddle. 'Jesus, Bugs. Can't you hold on?'
Bugs whimpered and doubled up into the foetal position, tried to straighten, and doubled up again.
I continued watching him, still breathing into my elbow though it did nothing to block the stench. The giddy feeling was getting stronger, mixing with intense rushes of irritation. It seemed to me, through the pulse that had developed behind my eyes, that there was something self-indulgent about his debasement. How could he not have had the strength to drag himself to the door? He'd distracted me from bringing the water to Françoise, and he was making a terrible mess that someone else would have to clean up. I remembered his stoicism when he'd bashed his leg, and the memory nearly made me laugh out loud.
'I've got to get this water to Françoise,' I said coldly, but didn't move. 'I said I'd only be two minutes. I've already been longer.'
Bugs opened his mouth, maybe to reply, and a slimy bubble of spit popped over his lips. This time I did laugh. 'Look at yourself,' I heard myself say. 'Who the fuck do you think's going to clear that mess up?'
Suddenly a hand grabbed my shoulder.
'My God, Richard! What's the matter with you? Why aren't you helping him?'
I turned and saw Cassie staring at me. She looked very angry, but when our eyes met the anger quickly changed to something else. Something like concern, I noted vacantly, or alarm.
'Richard?'
'Yes?'
'Are you OK?'
'I'm fine.'
'You…' She paused.' …Come on. We've got to get him outside at once.'
'I need to take this water to—'
'You need to get Bugs outside.'
I rubbed my eyes and wished they would stop throbbing.
'Now, Richard.'
'Yes… Right.' I put the pitcher down, a safe distance from the puddle, and went to help her lift Bugs.
He was heavy, being so broad, and he made no effort to walk so we practically had to drag him along the ground. Luckily one of the Swedes, Sten, arrived before we'd got halfway to the door. With his assistance we got Bugs outside and over to one of the diverted streams, where we dropped him so the current could wash him down.
Sten agreed to stay with Bugs—probably a relief after seeing what was going on in the longhouse – and Cassie and I headed back. I wanted to jog but she made me stop so she could feel my forehead.
'What's the matter?' I asked testily.
'…I thought you might have a temperature.'
'Do I?'
'You're a little hot… but no, thank God. We can't have anyone else getting ill.' She gave my hand a squeeze. 'We've got to be strong.'
'Uh-huh.'
'…We've got to keep calm.'
'Sure, Cassie. I know.'
'OK…'
'I've got to get the water to Françoise.'
'Yes,' she said, and I thought she might be frowning, but in the darkness it was impossible to tell. We started walking again. 'Of course.'
Over the time I'd been away, Françoise's condition had got worse. She was still talking but she'd deteriorated into a dreamy, feverish state, and her cheeks were burning up. I had to prop her up against my lap so I could feed the water into her mouth without her choking, and even then she lost most of the liquid down her chest.
'Sorry I took so long,' I said, as I dried her down with one of her T-shirts. 'Bugs was all over the place. Had to deal with him.'
'Richard,' she whispered, then said something in French that I couldn't understand.
I made a guess at the meaning.' …I'm fine. I missed out on the squid.'
'Étienne…'
'He's here, right next to you… sleeping it off.'
Her head twitched to the side. 'I love you,' she muttered drowsily.
I blinked, thinking for the slightest second that she might be talking to me. Then I caught myself, seeing the direction that her head had pointed, and realized her words were for Étienne. But in a way it didn't matter. It felt nice just to have heard her say it. I smiled and stroked her hair, and her hand reached up and closed weakly around mine.
For the next five minutes I stayed as still as I could, supporting her shoulders on my crossed legs. Then, when her breathing had become slower and heavier, I eased myself backwards and gently lowered her on to the sheets. They were a little damp from where the water had spilled, but it couldn't be helped.
It isn't something I feel I ought to justify, but I'll justify it anyway. I was thinking about the time I'd had a fever. Françoise had given me a kiss so I gave her one too, in exactly the same affectionate spirit. And I wouldn't have called it a kiss that was open to interpretation. It was straightforward; on the cheek, not the lips, unambiguous.
Technically, if you can get technical about such things, maybe I did hold it for a couple of seconds too long. I do remember noticing how soft and smooth her skin was. In the middle of that hellish night, with all the vomiting and groaning and flickering candle-flames, I wasn't expecting to find sweetness. It took me by surprise, that little oasis. I dropped my guard and closed my eyes, drifting a few moments, just for the chance to block the bad stuff out.
But when I pulled back from the kiss and saw the way Étienne was staring at me, I knew he hadn't seen it in the same way.
There was a short silence, as you might imagine, then he said, 'What were you doing?'
'…Nothing.'
'You were kissing Françoise.'
I shrugged. 'So?'
'What do you mean, 'so'?'
'I mean, so?' If I sounded irritable, it was nothing more than exhaustion, and maybe a hangover from the business with Bugs. 'I gave her a kiss on the cheek. You've seen me do that before, and you've seen her kiss me too.'
'I'm not hungry. Have you seen inside the longhouse?'
He swallowed. 'Stuck my head round the door, saw enough not to go in. Got plenty to deal with in the tents.'
'What's happening in the tents?'
'Same as the longhouse. The Swedes seem OK, but the others are fucked.'
'Are you worried?'
'Are you?'
'I'm not sure. Françoise said people can die from this stuff.'
'Mmm. They can.' He took another mouthful and chewed carefully. 'We need to keep them tanked up with loads of water. Can't let them get dehydrated. And we need to keep ourselves fit so we can look after them. That's why you should eat some food. You haven't eaten since this morning.'
'Later,' I said, thinking of Françoise, and scooped a pitcher into the drinking-water barrel. 'And if the Swedes are OK, then tell them to come and help.'
Jed nodded, his cheeks too puffed up to speak, and I set off back across the clearing.
Back inside the longhouse, Bugs was metaphorically and literally losing his shit. He was squatting alongside the line of candles, eyes bulging like cue-balls, whilst a pool of faeces collected around his feet. Moshe was standing a few feet away, gagging, and when he saw me he hurriedly moved away, as if having seen Bugs I'd been tagged with the responsibility of dealing with him.
Bugs groaned. A string of drool looped out of his mouth and swung crazily from his chin. 'Richard,' he spluttered. 'Get me outside.'
I looked around. Cassie was several beds away and Moshe was bent over one of the Yugoslavian girls. 'I'm in a hurry,' I replied, covering my nose and mouth with the crook of my arm.
'What?'
'I'm in a hurry. I've got to get this water to Françoise.'
'I've got to get outside! She can wait!'
I shook my head, then grimaced. The smell was so bad it was making me feel giddy.
'She already has waited,' I said.
His face contorted as though he was going to yell at me. I looked at him impassively while he held the expression, then he gurgled and another stream of shit splashed on to the ground. 'No!' he wailed, then his legs buckled and he slipped backwards.
I took a step sideways to keep clear of the spreading dark puddle. 'Jesus, Bugs. Can't you hold on?'
Bugs whimpered and doubled up into the foetal position, tried to straighten, and doubled up again.
I continued watching him, still breathing into my elbow though it did nothing to block the stench. The giddy feeling was getting stronger, mixing with intense rushes of irritation. It seemed to me, through the pulse that had developed behind my eyes, that there was something self-indulgent about his debasement. How could he not have had the strength to drag himself to the door? He'd distracted me from bringing the water to Françoise, and he was making a terrible mess that someone else would have to clean up. I remembered his stoicism when he'd bashed his leg, and the memory nearly made me laugh out loud.
'I've got to get this water to Françoise,' I said coldly, but didn't move. 'I said I'd only be two minutes. I've already been longer.'
Bugs opened his mouth, maybe to reply, and a slimy bubble of spit popped over his lips. This time I did laugh. 'Look at yourself,' I heard myself say. 'Who the fuck do you think's going to clear that mess up?'
Suddenly a hand grabbed my shoulder.
'My God, Richard! What's the matter with you? Why aren't you helping him?'
I turned and saw Cassie staring at me. She looked very angry, but when our eyes met the anger quickly changed to something else. Something like concern, I noted vacantly, or alarm.
'Richard?'
'Yes?'
'Are you OK?'
'I'm fine.'
'You…' She paused.' …Come on. We've got to get him outside at once.'
'I need to take this water to—'
'You need to get Bugs outside.'
I rubbed my eyes and wished they would stop throbbing.
'Now, Richard.'
'Yes… Right.' I put the pitcher down, a safe distance from the puddle, and went to help her lift Bugs.
He was heavy, being so broad, and he made no effort to walk so we practically had to drag him along the ground. Luckily one of the Swedes, Sten, arrived before we'd got halfway to the door. With his assistance we got Bugs outside and over to one of the diverted streams, where we dropped him so the current could wash him down.
Sten agreed to stay with Bugs—probably a relief after seeing what was going on in the longhouse – and Cassie and I headed back. I wanted to jog but she made me stop so she could feel my forehead.
'What's the matter?' I asked testily.
'…I thought you might have a temperature.'
'Do I?'
'You're a little hot… but no, thank God. We can't have anyone else getting ill.' She gave my hand a squeeze. 'We've got to be strong.'
'Uh-huh.'
'…We've got to keep calm.'
'Sure, Cassie. I know.'
'OK…'
'I've got to get the water to Françoise.'
'Yes,' she said, and I thought she might be frowning, but in the darkness it was impossible to tell. We started walking again. 'Of course.'
Over the time I'd been away, Françoise's condition had got worse. She was still talking but she'd deteriorated into a dreamy, feverish state, and her cheeks were burning up. I had to prop her up against my lap so I could feed the water into her mouth without her choking, and even then she lost most of the liquid down her chest.
'Sorry I took so long,' I said, as I dried her down with one of her T-shirts. 'Bugs was all over the place. Had to deal with him.'
'Richard,' she whispered, then said something in French that I couldn't understand.
I made a guess at the meaning.' …I'm fine. I missed out on the squid.'
'Étienne…'
'He's here, right next to you… sleeping it off.'
Her head twitched to the side. 'I love you,' she muttered drowsily.
I blinked, thinking for the slightest second that she might be talking to me. Then I caught myself, seeing the direction that her head had pointed, and realized her words were for Étienne. But in a way it didn't matter. It felt nice just to have heard her say it. I smiled and stroked her hair, and her hand reached up and closed weakly around mine.
For the next five minutes I stayed as still as I could, supporting her shoulders on my crossed legs. Then, when her breathing had become slower and heavier, I eased myself backwards and gently lowered her on to the sheets. They were a little damp from where the water had spilled, but it couldn't be helped.
It isn't something I feel I ought to justify, but I'll justify it anyway. I was thinking about the time I'd had a fever. Françoise had given me a kiss so I gave her one too, in exactly the same affectionate spirit. And I wouldn't have called it a kiss that was open to interpretation. It was straightforward; on the cheek, not the lips, unambiguous.
Technically, if you can get technical about such things, maybe I did hold it for a couple of seconds too long. I do remember noticing how soft and smooth her skin was. In the middle of that hellish night, with all the vomiting and groaning and flickering candle-flames, I wasn't expecting to find sweetness. It took me by surprise, that little oasis. I dropped my guard and closed my eyes, drifting a few moments, just for the chance to block the bad stuff out.
But when I pulled back from the kiss and saw the way Étienne was staring at me, I knew he hadn't seen it in the same way.
There was a short silence, as you might imagine, then he said, 'What were you doing?'
'…Nothing.'
'You were kissing Françoise.'
I shrugged. 'So?'
'What do you mean, 'so'?'
'I mean, so?' If I sounded irritable, it was nothing more than exhaustion, and maybe a hangover from the business with Bugs. 'I gave her a kiss on the cheek. You've seen me do that before, and you've seen her kiss me too.'