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CHAPTER 18

THE NEXT MORNING, I woke up to the sound of kids laughing.

At first I thought I was dreaming, but when I opened my eyes, I could see shapes through the gaps in the fronds. Small bodies moving. Fingers poking. And then, a set of brown eyes peeking through an opening.

More laughing.

I realized that Kira and I were both bare-ass naked. Maybe that’s what was so damned amusing.

I shook her. “Company,” I whispered.

Kira sat straight up. She already had the knife in her hand. She looked alert and ready to fight.

I turned toward the opening of the lean-to. Faces were peeking in from both edges. I counted six skinny brown-skinned boys, maybe ten or eleven years old, grinning like crazy and nudging each other as they stared.

Kira grabbed her clothes and covered herself. “Hey!” she shouted, waving the knife. A couple of the boys covered their eyes and turned away. One of them made wild circling gestures over his scalp. He was making fun of Kira’s curly hair.

I pulled on my pants and crawled out of the shelter on my hands and knees. The kids scattered and regrouped about ten yards away, still laughing. They all wore baggy cargo shorts and torn white T-shirts.

When I stood up to my full height, the laughing stopped. A few of the boys started backing away toward the shoreline. That’s when I saw a couple of outrigger canoes sitting next to our dinghy.

Kira emerged from the shelter. She glanced at the crude boats, then stuck her knife under her belt.

“Relax, Doc, they’re not here to kill us.” She waved to the boys. “They just came to fish.”