A Dolphins Dream (36 page)

"Have you lived on this island all your life?" asked Compton.

Sinaca gazed across the Tasman Strait to the northeast.

"No, I come from Laucala. My father brought us here when I was very small."

"Why did he move?

"The American, Forbes, bought the island."

"Malcolm Forbes?"

"Yes, that is who. He bought it and made jobs for everyone. He built a school for the children and pay for their school when they grow, the college, if they want."

"That sounds like a good situation, a generous answer to the poverty in Fiji."

"My father work too much. Everyone work too much. Sunday only day to fish."

"So he left because he couldn't fish when he wanted to?"

"He say there is no freedom to be a man. That they are not Fiji men anymore, they are American men who are weak with too much work and no time for fishing."

"Did you go to school?"

"I have been at the school but the sea is my teacher. The knowledge is greater, eh."

A wave rolled in and Sinaca opened her legs to it as a child might. The water stroked her thighs, gathered and foamed at her womanhood.

"You must be hungry," said Compton to distract himself. "Would you care for something to eat?"

Sinaca looked at the sky. "Yes." she said simply. Compton hadn't expected that answer and had not really considered what they would eat. "I have no fish but I can get my spear and find us some dinner. Would you like to come along? I have only one face mask so..."

"Give the mask to me. I get fish."

"Can you work the pole spear?"

"No spear, only the mask."

He suspected that she might have some fishing line in a pocket and so retrieved the mask, curious to the outcome.

"Here you go. It has a snorkel. Just blow out the water when it comes in."

"Yes," she said putting on the mask. "I know how."

"Do you have fishing line or something?"

She held her hands, palms up, with fingers spread wide. "I have these," she said and lifted her head back with laughter, exposing the roof of her mouth as pink as the palate of a cat. She skipped and dashed directly toward the water, then slipped into the sea. With easy, powerful, breaststrokes she gained the far edge of the finger reef and made a dive. Sitting on the beach, Compton watched her bare feet flash white just before they disappeared beneath the water. Her dives were lengthy, often over three minutes. Once he ran to fetch his fins for fear that she had drowned but when he returned she was afloat again, heading into shore on the kick of her legs alone. She came through the coral and onto the beach holding in her hands a silver fish with a red dorsal fin. It lay stilled in her hands until she handed it to Compton who, in a state of utter astonishment, did not properly grasp it and it wiggled free and leaped into the sea. She pounced on it, quick as a lioness and snatched it out of the sea foam. When she handed it to him again he grasped it with both hands and carried it up to the kitchen. Had he not seen her do it with his own eyes, he would never have believed that a human being could catch a fish with their bare hands in the open sea.

She put the mask and snorkel down on the table. "This mask is good, Fiji diver could spear many fish with this." She paused for a moment in thought. "Maybe too many fish, eh."

Compton brought the fish to the cutting board and filleted it out. While he cooked, Sinaca sat on the beach and dried herself in the warm wind of the sun's last tendrils, its zephyred fingers lifting her sula ever higher, exposing the full length of her muscled thigh. Its symmetry arousing him to new heights of desire.

They ate greedily. She licked her fingers clean and drank long gulps of water. In the last light of the day, Compton had stopped eating and was devouring her with his eyes, his shameless fervor causing her to turn away with a shy smile. Compton reached for her arm and she pulled away laughing, then leaped over the sea wall and ran to the water's edge. A half moon lifted darkly through the dense jungle and the night turned black as a bat's ear. He stumbled along the shoreline unable to find her until he stepped on her dress and blouse that were lying on the sand. 

"Keli, I am here," she called from the sea.

Silhouetted against the shimmering glow of the low moon on the water, she stood waist deep near the edge where the coral dropped off.

"Come," she shouted.

"I can't see where the coral is," he shouted back. "I'll get all cut up."

She made her way back towards the beach and he was relieved that she had changed her mind about the swim. In the opaque light of the half-hidden moon, her breasts and shoulders, slick from the water, glistened like freshly oiled bearings. With strong fingers, she clasped his hand.

"Come, I show you the way, no cuts," and she lead him into the water with his clothes on.

"No, wait, let me take my clothes off."

He stripped down and she stood back observing the whiteness of his skin gleaming like burnished ivory in the dim moonlight. Reaching for his hand, she led him into water that felt warmer than the water of day, thicker and more alive. Fears of deadly creatures in the night ocean stiffened him. Feeling his tension, she pulled firmly on his hand.

"Come," she said, "behind me. I make the way."

Her voice was gentle, reassuring, and her hand was hot in his and he could not have said no. They came to the high coral and she laid him flat on his stomach and they floated through the barriers of fire and knives of stone out to water where they were able to tread and swim. Almost immediately, he had the overwhelming sense of being trapped, for he couldn't possibly find his way back without getting savagely cut on the coral. Sinaca swam with powerful stokes some distance away. The moon had risen over the jungle and reflected brightly across the water. In its light he saw her dive beneath the water and waited for her to reappear. After an interminable wait,  tightness grew in his chest and bloated to a terror which began to well in his stomach. Something very large and swift moved in the phosphorescent water and was making its way toward him. With shattering clarity he realized that he had been lured into this night water by design, and Moses’ words of caution rose to its full impact with an unremitting terror. Images of the Sea God flashed before him and he could almost feel its horrifying presence looming just beyond his vision, moving towards him. He attempted to contain his urgency and turned easily for the shore. He swam with fluid strokes and through enormous restraint didn't yield to his panic. However, despite all his efforts it continued to rise and lodged in his stomach and from there began to consume his body like a creature whose hunger could not be satisfied. He swam faster while at the same time his body was squeezed in constriction, a frightful noise escaping his throat as he began to thrash towards the coral reef line. He scarcely hesitated at the scalloped wall and pulled himself up and over it, hand over hand, half swimming, half crawling, dragging his stomach, chest and legs over the high places, feeling the heat of the cuts but never once stopping. Coral broke in his hands and salt water burned as though grasping branding irons fresh from their pyre and still he pulled himself along. Finding footing in waist deep water, he tried to run ashore, his legs and shins banging into low lying coral. He fell into a hole and rose again and fell into another before reaching the flat rock near the shore where he struggled onto the high ground breathing in heaving, frantic breaths and half-collapsed on the sand. His stomach felt warm and sticky and then set ablaze, as did his arms and hands, feet and legs.  He had not been on the beach for very long when Sinaca was at his side, bending over him.

"What have you done, Keli?"

"I... I thought there was a shark."

"You are cut from the coral." She rubbed her hand across the cuts and shook her head in anguish.

"I know why you do this, Keli. I make you cut yourself very bad. I am hurt with you."

She placed her hand on his face and turned it to hers. She kissed him on the mouth. Her lips were warm and had the bittersweet taste of seaweed. He pulled her to him and she gently pushed away from his grasp.

"I must go, Keli."

Picking up her clothes, she reentered the sea, swimming to the reef's end and went west. Compton lost sight of her when she dove. From far away he thought he heard an exhale that sounded very much like a dolphin.

Moses found Compton feverish beneath the netting. The tee- shirt he wore was stained through from the weeping cuts and had fused to his chest, his bare legs and feet looking as if they had been dragged over broken glass.

"What is this, Keli? What happened?!"

Moses lifted Compton's shirt and broke the skin, causing Compton to grimace in pain.

"I went swimming with Sinaca a couple of nights ago and I... I thought I saw a shark and panicked," confessed Compton, and then explained the story in detail. When he was through, Moses removed his cap and wiped his brow.

"You did the right thing, Keli, but look at you. You are hot in the body. We better take you to Dilolomo. She fix you up."

“No, no, I’ve got some serious infections. I need antibiotics. Take me to a real doctor.”

“No antibiotics on this island. That medicine at the hospital on Taveuni. But the doctor there is very bad, he only make you sicker, maybe even kill you if you give him the chance. Dilolomo see this kind of infection all the time, she fix you up.”

"I don't want the village to see me like this. They'll know I was scared and panicked."

"They would understand. They fear Sinaca's power, they would have done the same."

"Moses, I' done some thinking. It was hard for me to believe Sinaca has been given supernatural power by the Sea God, now I’m not so sure. I know it's your explanation for the unexplainable. Still…” 

"You have been thinking again, eh, Keli. That is always dangerous for you."

"Moses, you’re the one who put this in my head but I'm not blaming you.” Then, almost to himself, “I did this."

"Come, we go to Dilolomo. We go up the river, go in the back way."

Moses loaded Compton in the boat and headed west. They passed the resort and stayed to the far shore of the deep bay across from the village. The mouth of a small river appeared at the apex of the bay where it curved in towards the land. They slowed at the mouth before edging into it. Moses stood in the stern looking for rocks and trees that broke the water intermittently as they pushed forward into a mild current. It became dark beneath the growth of trees that arched over the river and the song of birds filled the tunneled void, all but drowning out the sound of the engine. Mosquitoes descended on the boat like a moving cloak, drawn to the smell of blood that had seeped through Compton's shirt. They whined their virulent hymn en masse around his head and settled in droves on his bloodied shirt. He was too weak to wave them off and watched them suckle at the portent of a full meal that leeched through his shirt. In his detached state, he noted that a two-dollar bottle of insect repellent was all that stood between him and madness. They ducked under low hanging branches and wove their way deeper into the darkness. A half mile upriver, Moses turned into the west shore and ground the boat into the mud. He jumped ashore and held the boat for Compton, who struggled weakly through the mud and up a slippery embankment.

"Watch for the vines and roots, this trail is very thin," cautioned Moses.

The jungle was dense and inhospitable but beautiful in an evil sort of way, observed Compton through his delirium. Oversized, barren coconut trees abounded and stood like shrouded stick-men guarding the portals of hell. Cerberus-like boulders stood by their side, hunched, moments from springing into an attack, while succubus yellow and black butterflies dried their moist wings on red vampire-flowered bushes. Scarcely a trail existed, the low brush and vines like bony fingers clutching with every step, causing Compton to stumble and quickly exhausting him. Moses slowed the pace and hacked away at the undergrowth with the cane knife to make the way easier.

They came to the tall tree whose roots towered far above the ground. Moses snaked his way beneath the roots and Compton blindly followed. They broke out into a clearing where the old bure caught the sparse light of the high sun. A half-dozen chickens pecked among an assortment of plants growing in pots and pans that littered the open spaces away from the jungle.

"Wait here," instructed Moses, who called into the open doorway and then entered. Hushed voices filtered out the door. Moses reappeared and motioned Compton to enter.

There were no windows in the darkened hut and Compton sat next to Moses as instructed by hand signal. As his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, a figure materialized against the far wall, a woman, very old with stringy white hair curling in tendrils about her head. Beads of light came from her eyes, which were nearly hidden in folds of wrinkled skin. She spoke to Moses in Fijian, who then instructed Compton to lie upon a rough-hewn table on his back. When he had done so, the woman leaned forward and gently pulled the shirt from his stomach and chest as he grunted out a stifled cry. Lifting the shirt over his head, she lightly ran her spider hands over the deep cuts that were fired and swollen with pus. Moses cringed in sympathetic pain. Dilolomo extended her tongue to Compton indicating what she wanted him to do. She examined his tongue carefully then felt his pulse in three different places on his right wrist and three different placess left wrist. Again she spoke to Moses and then left the room.

"She goes to take the plants to use," explained Moses.

Dilolomo returned with a set of leaves and crushed them loosely onto Compton's chest, stomach and legs. Without preamble she began to rub vigorously. Compton was unprepared for the excruciating pain that lanced through him and involuntarily pushed her arms away. She spoke in a soft tone to Moses who bent over and pinned Compton's arms at the wrists.

"She say you must not touch when she do this. It is painful, eh, but it must be done."

Again she rubbed hard and again the pain shot bolts of white light through his eyes and into his brain and he bit down to keep from screaming. She reopened the cuts and they freely bled. Her hands and arms becoming red with blood as she worked her way down his body to his feet. He was bathed in blood and sweat that dripped to the table where mosquitoes lapped at it like ravenous bats. When she was done, his body quaked in spiked pain with every heartbeat. Soon, however, the sharp spasms were relived by a warm numbness that was not unlike soaking in a hot tub of water. Dilolomo produced a white powder from a leather pouch and sprinkled it liberally over each cut. When she was through, Compton was white from chest to toe. She instructed Moses to stay with him for two hours and not allow him to move. Then she left. Compton fell asleep and when he awoke Dilolomo was sitting beside Moses whispering something to him. She motioned Compton to rise and gave Moses more of the white powder and a bag of herbs for a tea that Compton was to drink twice a day.