Page 24

CHAPTER 23

THE FIRE WAS crackling on the beach. A row of snapper fillets roasted over the flames. Kira had carved the meat from a few fresh coconuts for a side dish.

All six boys were sitting cross-legged on one side of the fire, chatting away in the language I couldn’t understand. I assumed they were still talking about our near-death experience on the reef that afternoon.

One of the boys was using a thin stick to poke the fish as it cooked. I sat with Kira on the other side of the fire, observing his technique. I leaned in close to her. “Have you figured out their names yet?”

Clearly, she’d been working on it.

She pointed to the boy with the stick. “That’s Nian. I think he’s the oldest.” She nodded toward the next two boys in line. “That’s Bial and Kimo. I think they’re brothers. Next to Kimo is Tima, and then Bin. The small one is Dai.”

“He’s a great diver,” I said. “And wicked with a spear.” Most of the fish on the grill came from Dai’s pouch.

Kira and I had decided early on not to give the boys our real names. We were worried about who else they might tell, even out here in the middle of nowhere. When they were around, we just called each other Tarzan and Jane.

“Hey!” I called out. We’d learned this was the best way to get their attention. I held up a canvas bag that I’d brought from the Albatross . Since the boys had been so intrigued with the force field generator, I figured I’d entertain them with some of my ancestors’ other treasures.

I pulled the bag open. The boys crawled over like kids on Christmas morning.

The first item I pulled out was a man’s shirt made from heavy cloth. It was stained around the collar and it had a few holes in front. I took one sleeve and rubbed it hard against the other cuff. Once. Twice. On the third contact, a spark flew out. The shirt ignited with a bright flame. The fibers had been coated with thermite.

I heard gasps from the boys, then clapping.

Next, I pulled out my prize cutlass. I turned it from side to side so that the gems and steel caught the reflection of the flames. The boys looked dazzled. They leaned in. Dai reached out to touch the blade. I jerked it back.

“Sharp!” said Kira, pointing to the pink ridge at the base of her thumb.

Next up was a cylinder that looked like an oversized medicine capsule. It was about four inches long and made of tin, with a thin rubber seal around the middle. I handed it to Tima.

He took the cylinder, held it up to the light, then whacked it hard against his knee. The rubber seal broke. Suddenly the air filled with a pungent odor—like a combination of skunk musk and burning sulfur. It was horrendous. The boys covered their faces and backed away on all fours, like spindly crabs.

“Stink bomb!” I yelled, holding my breath. I picked up the cracked capsule and heaved it as far as I could into the water.

“Sting boom!” said Tima, talking with his nose pinched. At the sound, the other boys started laughing hysterically. They all pinched their noses and chanted, “Sting boom Tarzan! Sting boom Tarzan!”

I reached for the next gadget in my collection, but Kira grabbed my hand. “Doc. Save it. That’s enough for one night.” She made a spoon-to-mouth motion with her hands and called out to everybody, “Time to eat!”

Nian pulled the fish out of the fire. Kira passed out the coconut chunks. We used palm leaves for plates, our fingers for forks. We sipped last night’s rainwater from small tin cups. I thought it was one of the best meals I’d ever had.

The boys wolfed down their food in huge bites, barely pausing to chew. For a few minutes, the only sounds on the island were lapping waves and smacking lips.

As soon as they were finished, the boys wiped their hands on their shorts and headed for their boats. I stood up and looked in the direction they always paddled at the end of the day. The horizon looked cloudy and ominous. The boys were usually gone by this time. Kira was right. My demonstration had gone on a little too long.

“Hey!” she shouted. The boys stopped. Kira waved them back and knelt down on the beach. She pressed her palms together and leaned her cheek against her hands. “Sleep here tonight,” she said. “Go home tomorrow.”

Nian seemed to grasp the concept first. He huddled with the others. They tugged their boats farther up the beach so the tide wouldn’t take them.

I walked to the palm grove and started gathering fresh fronds. I carried them down to the beach and helped the boys make sleep mats. They all raced to the grove and came back with armfuls of fronds, trying to outdo one another with the most elaborate bedding.

As night fell, I used the bailing bucket from the dinghy to extinguish the fire. I grabbed a windbreaker for Kira. We both sat watching for a few minutes while the boys settled themselves on the beach, jabbering to one another the whole time.

“You’re good with kids,” said Kira. “A natural teacher.”

“I wish,” I said. “Most of the time, they’ve been teaching me.”

I thought about my job back at the university. The world of lesson plans and lecture notes seemed very far away, along with everything else in my normal existence. But the sky was an odd reminder.

When I tipped my head back, I recognized constellations I’d taught years ago as an associate professor. Canis Major, Canopus, Hydra. Every damn seat was filled for those lectures. Nothing to do with me. Astronomy was a well-known gut course.

I gathered my cutlass and all the gadgets I hadn’t gotten to and put the bag under the shelter of the lean-to. Kira crawled in and added some fresh fronds to our bedding.

I took off my shirt and folded it under my head as a pillow. Kira settled in next to me and pulled the windbreaker over her bare shoulders. Her eyelids started to flutter. I could see that she was already drifting off to sleep.

Not me. My mind was still whirring with excitement.

I leaned over and tapped her arm. “Did I tell you about the shark?”

“You did,” she mumbled. “Five times.”