A Dolphins Dream (27 page)

They rode to Orchid Beach in silence. After beaching the boat Compton asked Moses up for tea. “I suppose I owe you an explanation.”

Moses said nothing and quietly fingered the shells in the middle of the table. When Compton had taken a seat, Moses said, “You have done a bad thing, Keli. You have insulted the village.”

“What are you talking about? How could I have done that?”

“They were to have a feast in your honor, with music and dancing.”

“Why my honor? I didn’t get three fish, Aprosa did.”

“So that is it, eh,” nodded Moses in understanding.

“One fish is hardly worth the labor of a celebration,” added Compton.

Moses put down his tea and looked out to sea, then turned to Compton. “Your pride is false, Keli. Your truths are small. The celebration is not because you brought a fish but you wished to share it with the village. It does not matter who gets the biggest fish or the most fish. Because everyday that changes. Nobody expected you to be a better spear fisherman than Aprosa. The village wishes to have a meal and laugh together and any reason is a good reason to do that. But you take that reason away from them. Chief Isikeli would have come, it would have been your time to be invited into the village.

“I didn’t know,” responded Compton stiffly. “I wanted to impress Sinaca.”

“If your pride was small it would have been easy to know but for you, Keli, it is difficult to see such things.”

“So what now?” asked Compton, the realization sinking in.

“They will forgive you because they know the smallness of the white man’s truths.”  

“Will they forgive me just because I am white?”

“No, they forgive everyone. But only a white person would do such a thing, eh.”

“So they treat me differently because I’m white. They feel sorry for me, don’t they?”

“Of course they do. It is a terrible thing not to understand what is life and be confused about the simple things.”

Compton looked at the sky as if to hold back tears. It was true, he realized. I don’t understand life, real life. Hell, I still don’t understand myself.

“What must Sinaca think?” sprang from his lips. Moses impassively observed the torment that swept across Compton’s face.

“She will forgive quicker than the rest, already it is past her.”

“I mean, will she see me as the weak and confused white fool that I am?”

Moses laughed and shook his head. “You are two men, Keli. One man is weak with false pride and blind to truths, the other spears fish like a Fiji man. It is the spear fisherman that Sinaca sees and the people see. When you do something foolish like leave a celebration then they notice that you are white.”

Compton laughed at himself. “I know that everything you say is true, Moses. I don’t know why I do the things I do. It’s like if I don’t push life, it pushes me. Either way I wind up going in the wrong direction.”

“It is the small truths that your pride twists to please yourself. A man needs very little pride. Pride is like water inside the boat. A little bit is a good thing, it keeps the wood tight and washes the blood away. But when the boat begins to fill with too much water it cannot move and soon begins to sink. The man bails and bails to keep the boat from sinking. His head is down, he is working hard but his boat is not moving lightly across the water. He will say he has lived a worthwhile life but he has been bailing and knows nothing.”

Compton inhaled a deep breath as though he were about to make a dive, then let it out through his teeth.

Moses continued, “Well, you’re in a different world now. So pull your boat up on the beach and let your pride drain away, accept a little. Then we fix the leaks and put you back into the water so you can go lightly across the sea, eh.”

“How long does it take to fix leaks this bad?”

“They already being fixed, eh.”

Moses stood abruptly and said after a pause, “I’m going back to the village. There is eating and grog. Do you wish to come?”

“I’m too embarrassed. I think I’ll stay and give them some time to forget.”

“All right, brother.” Moses strode to the beach and was in the boat when Compton shouted to him.

“We go to the deep reef tomorrow for some wailu?”

Moses chuckled, and shouted back, “Kava night tonight.”

“Then I’ll see you when I see you.”

“No sooner than that, eh.”   

It was with surprise and delight to see Moses arrive early in the morning and with scarcely a word between them, motored Compton out to the deep reef. On his first dive, the Silver Fish materialized out of a glycerin sea. The twisted white flesh of its wound caught the early light and identified it. The fish, in that grand pelagic style of movement that propelled it without tail or fin action, closed the distance as he held his place at a depth of forty feet. The fish drew to within twenty feet then broke off its line of approach and slid back to the edge of the reef and into the depths.

He dove for two hours but the Silver Fish did not reappear. Near the end of the dive a wailu breeout of those same depths and he speared it, finding the spot, making the kill. The fish quivered in its death throes and slowly sank but otherwise made no movement. White tips gathered at the top of the reef sixty feet down at the vibrations but were of no consequence. He handed the fish to Moses who hefted its weight and declared it to be around twenty-five kilos. 

Compton elected to make no mention of the Silver Fish to Moses or report any further sightings. The Silver Fish was obviously held in high regard by Aprosa, and perhaps others, but when the time came he would spear it. Until then, he felt his intentions were best left undeclared.

“I take this fish to Taveuni,” said Moses. “The resort has plenty of fish. I need the kerosene and some rice. Do you wish anything?”

Compton, in his preoccupation replied, “A couple of things. I’ll give you a list.”

They headed back to Orchid Beach on a fixed sea. Minutes into the run Moses abruptly turned the boat back to the open water, directing it to a skiff far out on the edge of a breaking reef, midway to the horizon. “They are in need of a fish,” he muttered to the sea.

Compton, baffled by the remark but no longer surprised by declarations Moses might utter, sat back to see what exactly would transpire. The run was long on the flat sea and took every bit of twenty minutes. They came alongside a blue-hulled boat that was similar to most other skiffs on the island. An old Fijian man was at the outboard and in the bow was a white man wearing a large Panama hat. Moses asked the white fisherman if he wanted to buy a fish. 

“Yes, by all means,” he cordially replied. “I need something for tonight.”

He identified himself as an Australian and was quite impressed with the size of the speared mackerel. “You speared that fish?” he asked, looking at Compton then at the spear gun.

“I did,” answered Compton, affecting a manner of boredom to enhance the feat.

“Magnificent! We had given up on fish today. We were about to pack it in. Your arrival was timely. A third of that fish would do nicely. What do I owe you?”

Ten dollars was agreed upon. Moses cut away a large portion and handed it to the Fijian who, in turn, gave him the money which he pocketed and bid a pleasant good day, turning the skiff back toward the island.

“Moses, you no longer surprise me but how in the hell did you know that boat needed a fish? You couldn’t possibly have seen anyone fishing from that distance.”

“I’m a fisherman. I know when a person desires a fish, eh.”

“Okay, but how did you know? This isn’t the first time you’ve pulled this sort of stunt.”

“It is the voice, eh.”

“What voice is that?”

“The voice that is always true.”

“And did it tell you that an Australian wanted a fish?”

Moses shrugged. “Of course. It was his need to buy and mine to sell, eh.”

Compton nervously laughed. “You know it wouldn’t surprise me at all if you began to levitate right here in the boat.”

“Levitate? What’s that?”

“You know, float up in the air, like an angel.”

“No, no Keli. I am only a man. I float on the water not on the air. A man knows very little. That is why he must listen to the voice. It is a simple thing, eh. No need to think.”

“We always get back to too much thinking, don’t we?”

Moses grinned and nodded. “Yes, and stay simple with a little bit of pride.”

Moses dropped Compton off at Orchid Beach and continued on to Taveuni, saying he would stop by on his way home.

After an overcast and soulless sunset, there began a hard rain. Compton ate dinner and quickly slipped under the netting, all the while anticipating the whine of Moses’ outboard. It did not come and he fell asleep to horrific scenes that played out on a dark and rain-swept sea, which consumed Moses and left Compton forever isolated on the beach.   >

Under the weight of their early morning cargo, potbellied clouds labored across the smudge-stained sky. Rain fell intermittently and blue lizards awaiting the sun’s blissful warmth stood watch on indigo boulders drawn from the sea. The blue lizards were fat with black insects and the polychromatic birds were fat with lizards.

The birds flourished on Qamea because it was without mongoose or snake, which are notorious nest robbers. Unlike Qamea, Taveuni had very few birds for it was overrun with mongoose that were brought over to kill the rats in the cane fields, which ruined the cash crops. However, the mongoose is a creature of the day while the rat is nocturnal. Thus man compounded his problem, for he found himself relentlessly invaded by destructive carrion forces both night and day.

Man’s interference in the natural world of Qamea was limited to the snake-killing frogs that pounded out a bass line for the melodious song of the jungle birds. It seemed to Compton that the tradeoff for those musically inclined was that rare and wonderful exception to man’s meddlesome hand in his otherwise visionless tampering with the natural world. 

By early afternoon Moses had not made an appearance and Compton was now genuinely concerned. Should he hail a passing fishing boat? Or attempt to walk across the jungle to Moses’ settlement? Or hope for the best and wait it out here? Perhaps it was the day that piqued his worry, for it cloaked itself in somber clothes of dark grays and blacks that brought to mind a funeral procession. Wrought iron clouds were lowering the boom on Taveuni, accompanied by searing spikes of lighting skewering the breadth of its shoreline. 

He watched as a thick blanket of rain plodded across the strait. When it reached him in convulsive sheets, he removed his clothes and ran naked on the beach with arms spread, feeling buoyant as a child. Winded, he sat at the table enjoying his nakedness, the anxiety of Moses’ absence having lifted and his spirits filled with the energy of the storm.  

It was late afternoon when Moses finally arrived, coming from the jungle, carrying pawpaw, cabbage and store supplies on his back in a bag.

“Bula Keli, Vinika vaka levu. Did you wonder where I have gone?”

“I was worried. I thought you might have broken down out on the water. The storm was pretty bad.”

“Keli, do not think, it makes worry. If my engine breaks I have the oars. I have rowed many times across the strait. The ocean doesn’t want to kill me, it treats me well. I caught fifteen fish on the way to Taveuni yesterday. My boat was filled with fish. When I got there a big fishing boat had beat me in and filled up everyone’s fish box. No one would buy. Terrible. So I strung four fish to a line and went into the village bar and said, ‘You should be feeding your children instead of drinking away your wages. Here is fresh fish for your families.’ I sold three strings in the bar. I went to the Indian store and traded the rest for fuel. He gave me a dollar forty a kilo for the fish, then charges me full price for the fuel. He cheats me but it come out in my favor. I met Esther at the store and stayed with her for dinner and sleep. In the morning I fish my way home before you wake, then work in the garden all day. It was a good day, plenty of rain, no sun.”

“The universe is always in order with you, isn’t it. When all around you is in chaos and the odds suddenly turn against you, you seem to always find a way through it.”

“That is the exciting thing of life, eh. Everyday is unlike the last.  A new task must be done.”

“It doesn’t bother you that the Indian continues to cheat you?  I am amazed it doesn’t undermine your willingness to trust the next person.”

“Each time is a new time, eh. Each man deserves a chance to be honest. I remember this fellow from the Genuine Village, he wanted to get married and build a bu He had nothing and needed plenty of money for all the things a family must have. The only way he knows is to dive for sea slugs. Plenty hard work. He loves his woman very much and wants a number one bure for her, so he works six months and brings up four hundred kilos of sea slugs. No one has ever seen this much sea slugs. They call him the Sea Slug Man for the rest of his life.  He very famous for that. In Suva they will pay him nearly three thousand dollars for the sea slugs, a fortune that will last him until his children grow old. His best friend is going to Suva so he put the slugs in his hand, to make sure they get to Suva on the boat and to collect the money. It was a big job jes’ to load the slugs on the boat. Dead slugs are a terrible smell and worse to touch. His friend say he be back in a week with the money but he does not come back. The Sea Slug Man went to Suva but couldn’t find him. Three months later his friend came back to the village. He had been drunk and whoring for all that time. He bought an old motor scooter with the money he had left and give it to the Sea Slug Man as a wedding present.”

The idea of bringing a motor scooter to Qamea struck Compton as unbearably funny and he choked up with laughter. “Where could he ride it?”

“He couldn’t ride it. There are no roads, eh.”

Now Moses was laughing. “This man is no damn good, eh.”

“A motor scooter! What happened to it?”

“The fellow went to Taveuni and traded it for an ax.”

Moses and Compton convulsed with laughter, tears running down their cheeks.