The Beach (33 page)

I was a fool. I was kidding myself. As the idea of leaving had come into my head, another idea had sneaked inside with it. That maybe this was the way it could all end up. Not in some VC dope-guard attack and a panic-stricken evacuation from the clearing, but with a simple demobilization of forces. After all, this was the way Vietnam had ended for a lot of US soldiers. Most US soldiers. Statistics were on my side, I'd have played by Mister Duck's rules, and I'd be out in one piece.
I could not have been more wrong, but that was the way I was thinking. Full of hasty schemes and plans, and the fucked-up optimism that comes from desperation.
I wasn't bothered by the practicalities of leaving. It would have been easier if Karl hadn't taken the boat, but we still had the raft. If that was gone, we'd swim. We were all much fitter than we had been and I had no doubts we could do it again. So with transportation out of the way, the only other complication was food and water. But water could be solved with water bottles and catching fish was our speciality. All in all, the practicalities weren't worth more than passing consideration. I had much more serious things on my mind, like who we'd take with us.
Françoise was the first to sort out. She was standing two boulders over from mine, one hand loosely resting on her thigh and the other pressed to her lips. Étienne stood in front of her, talking rapidly, too quiet for the sound to carry.
Their conversation became increasingly animated. Intense enough for me to start worrying that Gregorio would notice there was some kind of problem. He was in the water, closer to me than them, diving with Keaty. But just as I began to contemplate ways I might distract Greg's attention, the exchange abruptly ended. Françoise looked over at me with wide eyes. Étienne said something urgent, and she quickly turned back. Then Étienne threw a quick nod in my direction, and that was that. I knew she'd agreed to leave.
It was a big relief. I'd been completely unable to predict how she'd react, and worryingly, so had Étienne. He'd said that it would all depend on whether she put the beach above her love for him. A close call, judging by the way things had been going, and we both knew it.
But however close the Françoise call was, it was a lot more straightforward than the other two names on our list: Jed and Keaty. Or my list, I should say, because Étienne didn't want to take either of them. I could see his point—if we only had to take Françoise, we could almost have left at once. We could have been above the cliffs and on our way to the raft within sixty minutes. But over the months of my beach life, I'd done enough to keep me in nightmares for the next twenty years. I didn't want to add to my sentence now. Jed and Keaty had been my best two friends on the beach, and even if it was risky — particularly with Keaty — I couldn't disappear without offering them the chance to come too.
The nightmares I couldn't avoid were Gregorio, Ella, Unhygienix, Jesse and Cassie. Even if they agreed to come—which they wouldn't — and we managed to keep it secret from Sal — which would be impossible - we'd never all fit on the raft. So they had to be left behind. And I accepted that without any internal debate. It was irrelevant how it made me feel.
Soon after Étienne had finished talking to Françoise, she swam over to where I sat and pulled herself halfway out of the water. I waited for her to say something, but she kept quiet. She didn't even look at me. 'Is there a problem?' I whispered, keeping one eye over her shoulder. Gregorio and Keaty were still diving near by. '... You understand why we have to go?'
'Maybe,' she replied after a pause. 'I understand that Étienne wants to leave because he is frightened of Sal.'
'He's right to be frightened of her.'
'Is he?'
'Yes.'
'But I do not think that is why you are leaving... For you, there is something else.'
'...Something else?'
'You would not leave if it was only because Étienne is frightened of Sal.'
'I would. I am.'
'No.' She shook her head. 'Will you tell me why you want to leave?'
'It's just like Étienne told you...'
'Richard. I am asking you. Please tell me why.'
'There's nothing to tell. I think if we stay that Étienne may be in danger.'
'You do not think it can get better after Tet? Everyone says life will be better after Tet. You do not think, maybe we should stay? We can wait for a few more days and then, if you are still afraid...'
'Tet will change nothing, Françoise. Life will only get worse.'
'Worse... Worse than we have had.'
'Yes'
'But you will not tell me why.'
'...I don't know how I could.'
'But you are sure.'
'Yes. I'm sure.'
She slipped back into the water. 'We will never be able to come back,' she said, just before her head submerged, and sighed. 'So sad...'
'Perhaps,' I replied to the stream of bubbles she left behind on the surface. 'If there was anything to come back to.'
Ten minutes later, Gregorio held up his fishing spear. A milkfish flapped on its point, sliding itself further down the shaft with its efforts to get free, the last fish needed for the extra quota.
Françoise, Étienne and Gregorio began to make their way back towards the beach, jumping between the boulders where possible, swimming where necessary. Keaty and I stayed back.
'Hang on,' I'd said, when the others had set off. 'I want to show you something.'
He'd frowned. 'We've got to get the catch back.'
'It can wait. Twenty minutes. Twenty-five. It's important.'
'Well,' he'd said, and shrugged. 'If it's important...'

I had imagined that, of the three, Keaty would be the hardest to persuade. He'd lived on the beach for longer than all of us, he didn't have Françoise's attachment to Étienne, or Jed's bleak disillusionment. But it turned out he was the easiest. All I had to do was to show him where the boat had been, and he virtually came up with the idea himself.
'It can't be gone,' Keaty said, and leant over, trailing his arms in the water as if hoping to find its sunken prow. 'It just can't be. It's not possible.'
'But it is.'
'It can't be.'
'You can see for yourself.'
'Don't tell me what I can see!'
'...I don't know what Sal's going to say...'
'I do! She's going to fucking flip! She's going to lose her mind! She's going to...' He rose up with a jerk and clapped both hands to his head. 'Oh my God, Rich...'
I frowned with what I imagine looked like innocent concern. '...What is it?
'I was the one who tied it up... I was the one who... Jesus
Christ!
'What? Tell me!'
'I'm dead!' he almost screamed. 'I'm a fucking dead man!'
'...Dead? Why?'
'The food poisoning! And now losing the boat!
Shit! Fuck!
Of all things, losing the... Don't you get it? She'll do for me! She'll do for me like she did for... for... Oh
no!
' He leapt to his feet and started quickly backing away .' ...This is why you got me here, isn't it? She already knows!
She already fucking knows!'
I stood up too.
'
You stay where you are!
'
'Keaty...'
He drew back a fist.
'Stay where you are!'
'Keaty...'
'I swear, if you make one fucking move I'll...'
'Keaty!' I yelled, suddenly feeling angry myself. 'Shut the fuck up! I'm not going to attack you, for Christ's sake!'
'Back off!'
'OK, OK!' I took several steps away from him. 'I'm backing off!'
'Further! Get right back against the rock!'
I did as I was told. 'There! Satisfied?'
He stayed frozen with his fist raised. 'If you make one move...'
'You'll pulverize me. I know.'
'I will do it! I'm not Karl! I'm telling you, you won't have a fucking prayer!'
'I
know.
I'll be creamed. But you've
got
to believe me, I've got no intention of attacking you. I can't even believe you think I would! You're one of my best friends!'
His fist lowered, but no more than an inch.
'...Does Sal know about the boat?'
'No.'
'You promise?'
'On my life. The whole reason I brought you here is so you could find out before she did. And think about it, Keaty. How could she know? You only got back last night, so when could she have had a chance to find out?'
He thought about this a few seconds then lowered his fist completely. 'Yes,' he murmured blankly. 'That's true... She couldn't know...'
'Right.'
'...But... she'll find out soon... She'll have to...'
'She'll find out very soon.'
'Fuck!' he blurted, his panic rising again. 'And then what will I do? I won't be able to sleep at nights! I won't be able to go anywhere alone! I'll have to...'
'Leave?'
I'll have to leave! Yes! Jesus! I should leave right now! I'll take the...' He whirled around and stared at the cove. 'Oh, God,' he whispered, 'but I can't. I'm trapped here... trapped...'
'No,' I replied, raising a hand to my temples as if formulating a rapid and brilliant scheme. 'There might be another option.'

Now I was on a roll. Getting on top of things. The two hardest converts were converted and all I had to do was get Jed, fill him in, and wait for our chance to slip away. I was feeling so good that I started humming my mouse song as Keaty and I re-entered the clearing. The only problem was, Keaty joined in too. Joined in with manic gusto, hitting the wrong notes, turning heads. 'What are you doing?' I hissed. 'You sound like a swarm of bees.'
'I can't help it,' he hissed back through a rigid ventriloquist's smile. 'I'm freaking out. I feel like everybody's watching us.'
'You've got to act normal.'
'I don't know if I'll be able to handle this, Rich.'
'The Gameboy. Go and play the Gameboy. And if Sal asks you to join in with the preparations, just try to be calm.'
'Got it,' he whispered, and walked off to his tent, arms stiffly swinging by his sides.
Étienne and Françoise were coping a lot more successfully, but they did have each other for support. They sat close to the kitchen hut, apparently chatting idly, busy helping to gut the enormous catch of fish.
Sal, meanwhile, was nowhere to be seen. I wanted to locate her before I tried to get to the hospital tent - remembering that she'd told me to stay away from Jed — so I moved to the centre of the clearing, expecting to spot her with Bugs and the carpenters.
The meeting area had progressed swiftly over the time I'd been away. Our bed sheets and one or two unzipped sleeping-bags had been suspended between bamboo poles, making a flat marquee about twenty-five feet in diameter. Bugs had Cassie on his shoulders, giggling and laying palm leaves above the sheets. I guessed the canopy needed to be thick enough to block out the glow from our candles and barbecue, in case any planes happened to pass over us tonight.
But Sal wasn't with the carpenters either. Which meant there was a strong possibility she was in the hospital tent with Jed.
'Shit,' I said.
'Not impressed?' said a crisp voice, directly behind me.
I delayed for a second in order to compose myself and do some rapid thinking, then turned around.' ...Impressed, Sal?'
'With our construction.'
'Oh, I'm very impressed with that.
Very
impressed. It's amazing. No, I was thinking about something else.'
'Mmm?'
'My cigarettes. I left half a packet on the beach.'
'Oh.'
'No big deal. I've just got a feeling they were at the low-tide mark, and the water's coming in. Stupid of me.'
'Doesn't seem too serious.'
'No, no.' I shook my head. 'Not at all serious.'
'Good... I'm glad to see you've cheered up since this morning.'
'I feel much better.'
'I assume that means I shouldn't worry about any unexpected problems tonight.'
'...That's right. No problems. You can... forget about him.'
'Forget?' Sal said, not missing a beat. 'Forget about who?'
'...Karl.'
She gave me an odd look. 'Who?'
'Karl.'
'Who's Karl?'
'Karl's...' I began, then the penny dropped. 'Nobody.'
'I thought you were talking about someone here.'
'No.'
'Fine.' Sal nodded fractionally. 'Well, I'd better get back to work. Still lots to do.'
'Sure.'
'If you get stuck for a chore, let me know. We'll soon find something.'
'Right.'
'Lovely.'
A few moments later Sal was standing under the marquee and pointing out gaps in the sheets to Bugs, although he didn't appear to be paying attention. He still had Cassie on his broad shoulders, and he kept breaking into a little jog to make her squeal.
It was gone four o'clock before I had a chance to get to the hospital tent, and a chance to do something else as well. A piece of inspired opportunism, I thought at the time.
At four, all of the preparations for the evening were as good as finished. The marquee was complete, the stews were bubbling, the chickens were ready to barbecue, and the vegetable peelings, feathers and fish guts had been taken down the Khyber Pass and thrown away. So Sal, sensing a lull, suggested a huge game of football down on the beach. 'Let's work up an appetite!' she'd called out. 'A serious appetite!'
This was excellent news. As Keaty and I never joined in the football, we had an excuse to remain behind. Plus we could offer to tend the cooking pots, meaning Unhygienix could leave with the others. By ten past the clearing was empty.
'He's going to notice,' said Keaty nervously, watching me sprinkle huge handfuls of grass into the stew. 'It's going to taste really strange.'
'If he notices, I'll just admit it was me. I'll say it was for the atmosphere.'
'He hates people fucking with his food.'
'Yeah, well if we don't do something the party will go on all night.' I paused, picking up roughly half an ounce, and chucked it into the biggest pot. Then I chucked in another half. 'Anyway, after an hour he'll be too messed up to give a shit.'
'He'll be tripping. Everyone will.'
'Whatever. Just make sure you don't eat any of this. Stick to the chicken and rice. And make sure Étienne and Françoise get the same message.'
'...It won't be easy to avoid eating the stew.'
'We'll manage.' I dusted my hands off and surveyed my handiwork. After a couple of turns with a stick there was no evidence of the new ingredient. 'You reckon we should chuck in some magic mushrooms or something?'
'No.'
'OK. So how much do you reckon is in there now?'
'In total? All the pots?'
'In total.'
'A lot. Way too much. You're a fucking lunatic.'
'A lunatic!' I laughed. 'Hold the front page.'