The Birthmark (2 page)

Footsteps at the restaurant entrance made Hector look up. It was Lily Fasiti, the girl he'd thought about too much lately. She strode in and made her way to the counter, her thongs slapping loudly on the worn lino.

‘One fish rice!' she called to the cooks, then turned and surveyed the room, stark with its pale blue walls and scrubbed laminated tables. Her eyes narrowed as she saw Hector in the corner.

‘Looking for flies in your black bean meat?' she asked.

Hector chuckled and felt his face blush. Why was she talking to him? He hardly knew her, except as an easy target to throw things at on the school bus. He was even more surprised when she slumped into the bench opposite him and sighed. Too afraid to look directly at her for long, he glanced up and noticed her eyes. They were heavy and bloodshot.

‘What's happening?' he asked, unsure of what else to say.

‘Same as always.'

Hector nodded, even though he had no idea what she meant. He was aware of her watching his thin fingers picking at the rice. He wondered what to say next. He'd never really had a conversation with a teenage girl before. They all thought he was hideous. The scar on his face made sure of that; everyone winced the first time they saw him. His grandfather always said it was because people imagined the pain he must have endured having his face savaged by a dog. Hector knew it was because he looked revolting.

More and more self-conscious, he stared at his food in an effort to hide his scar from Lily. But she didn't seem to care. Perhaps because in her own way she was just as disfigured as he was. Her left hand was stained purple, all the way to the elbow. Hector used to think it looked weird, but after seeing it so often he'd almost forgotten about it. No one, however, got used to his face.

Lily shifted uneasily on the bench, looked around and drummed her fingers against the tabletop.

‘What's wrong, you hiding from someone?' he asked. She took a long time to answer. ‘Yeah, maybe,' she said finally in an amused tone. ‘Maybe you can help me escape.'

‘Huh?'

‘Are you going looking for things today?' she asked him quietly.

Hector was startled by her question. What did she mean, looking for things, thieving maybe? ‘I'm looking for chickens,' he said defensively.

‘Who with?' she asked. It was a dumb question. Everyone knew Hector was usually alone.

‘Just me—want to come?'

‘What would I do with a chicken?' she laughed. ‘Yeah, why not? Let's go.' She slid out from the bench and walked to the entrance.

‘Don't you want your food?' Hector said.

‘Forget it.'

Hector pushed his plate aside and ran after her.

The cook scurried out from behind the counter waving a wooden spoon. ‘Pay! Pay! You no pay!' she howled as she charged to the door. But the two of them had vanished into the protection of the forest.

‘Hurry, she'll catch you!' Hector shouted. He'd overtaken Lily in just a few strides, his skinny legs used to fleeing. ‘She's right behind you,' he teased, knowing full well that the Chinese woman had given up pursuing them. Lily crashed through the undergrowth behind him, a look of terror on her face.

Hector stopped running and doubled up with laughter. ‘What's so funny?' she screeched, almost bowling him over in her effort to escape.

‘She won't follow—they never do.'

She pushed Hector so hard that he toppled sideways. ‘
Ngaitirre!
Don't trick me—ever,' she swore.

He was still laughing when he hit the ground and Lily laughed too then.

‘Where are we going, chicken boy?' she asked, breathless.

‘Along the Witch Track. If you cut through the bush you come out near Government Settlement.

'
‘Why go there? White people don't have any chickens.'

‘No, but that's where all the best Tevua chickens go.' ‘Why?'

‘Because they like the white people, they like vanilla better than chocolate.'

She laughed at his little joke as they walked along the track. Hector listened to her throaty chuckle. It made him feel good to think that she accepted him.
She
didn't treat him like dog shit.
She
could look him in the eye and not turn away.

After a few minutes he led her off the trail onto a thickly forested rise. Bean trees heavy with drops of moisture hung over the main canopy of tree hibiscus and the occasional coconut. Inside, the light was dim, and Hector could only see specks of blue through the forest above. He stopped at the base of a bean tree. The spreading buttress of the tree was like the back of an armchair; he sat and leant against it.

‘Sit first,' he said.

‘Why?'

‘To listen. You have to listen and be still. Then you know where they are.'

He looked up at her legs, marked with scars. He'd often admired their strength and tone. He liked the chains of colourful beads and the black rubber rings from oilcans that covered her ankles. He liked her honey-brown skin; it was a shade lighter than most Tevuans. He liked her round unblemished face and he liked her fearlessness. He liked a lot about this girl. If only she knew. He turned his head before she could see his face darken.

Lily moved away from him, crouched to pick up a small stick and started to scratch in the black soil.

‘Sssss,' he hissed at her, ‘can't hear them scratch when you're scratching, too.'

Lily spat in the dirt, then curled her top lip at him. Just like her mum, Hector thought, that mean woman from the Works Department.

‘Bastard!' she said laughing, and she threw the stick at him.

‘
Suh!
Sit down and shut up.'

She sat and pulled her skirt tightly over her knees. Knees for me, Hector smiled, then turned away. He had to switch from looking at her to hunting.

He stared into the scrub behind the buttress. Black and copper shadows and outlines of tangled forms whispered to him. He watched for falling leaves above and the movement of small black crabs in the dappled undergrowth below. Silence grew easily between them.

‘Listen to the forest,' he murmured.

Soon, into the silence came the gentle rhythmic flicking of black soil onto dry leaves. Hector rummaged in his pockets and pulled out a coil of string and a pocketknife. Lily frowned at him. He tilted his head towards the scrub, indicating the approaching quarry.

‘They're here. Go get a young coconut,' he whispered, pointing to a nearby clump of shoots. ‘But quiet, and hurry.'

She uprooted the nearest seedling and shook the soil away from the husk.

Hector set to work unravelling the string to make a snare. He crept into the clearing and placed the trap on the ground, covering it with dead leaves and loose soil.

As Lily brought the coconut over, the scratching noises stopped. The hens were suspicious. Hector took the coconut from Lily and prised open the brown husk with his knife. He stuck his blade in the pale yellow spongy kernel and discarded the rest of the seedling. He snapped off a chunk of kernel then held the rest out for Lily to take some.

‘Spit it out, don't eat it all,' he whispered.

‘It smells like soap, but it tastes so sweet,' she said as she chewed. Then she copied Hector and spat the tiny shards onto a large curled leaf he'd found at the base of their hiding tree.

Once they'd produced enough bait, he spread most of it in the snare and sprinkled a trail near the bush where the chicken noises had come from.

They hid again and waited for what seemed like hours. Hector's knees burned with pain as he squatted behind the bean tree.

Soon he was rewarded. Three chickens emerged into the clearing, following the baited trail. They moved steadily along, peck, peck, pecking. Closer and closer they came until the red one in front reached the hidden snare. She scratched at the soil, unearthing the end of a stick and a section of the twine. She paused, turned, then rushed at the main heap of coconut in the centre of the snare.

Hector held his breath. He could feel a surge of excitement in his chest. One, two, three…now! He pulled the string line down hard over the buttress. A flurry of feathers and squawking filled the air. Hector held the line taut with an expert hand. The red hen sprawled and twisted, screeching her protests. But the other two birds had left her, vanished into the shadows of the jungle.

‘Now I got my girl,' he said to Lily, winking.

She laughed at him. ‘Is that how you catch girls?'

‘Eh, no,' he grinned, watching her laugh. ‘I think they catch me.'

‘Well yeah, you got legs like a chicken.' Lily pointed at his knees.

‘Shut up,' he said smiling at her. His legs weren't like Tevuan legs, but he was only thirteen. His grandfather said he had lots of time yet to catch up.

The hen cowered as Hector knelt to pick it up. He tucked it gently under his arm and was about to stand up when an unusual shape caught his eye. He poked at the soil where the snare had been. ‘What's this?' he said, unearthing a long metal object.

‘A bit of iron,' said Lily.

Hector stood up and wiped it against the tree buttress to clear off the leaf litter, then turned it to catch the light. ‘It's shiny. Well, not that rusty anyway.'

‘Maybe it's a bush knife.'

‘No, it's too long,' he said. He guessed it was as long as a softball bat, probably longer. ‘No, I think it's…it's a sword.'

‘A sword? Show me?' Lily pulled at his shoulder, trying to get a better look. The chicken squawked then settled again in Hector's armpit. ‘It can't be a sword, there's no handle.'

‘The grip must have rotted away, but there's still the metal underneath,' Hector muttered. He looked at the narrow flat end where once there would have been leather strapping. There was a hole, and inscriptions etched down the side. ‘This is all that's left of the hilt and see—Japanese writing.' He tilted the blade and peered at the writing. ‘The chicken must have dug it up. Do you think it's from the war?'

‘What?' said Lily, frowning.

‘Maybe it's from the war, you know, like the helmets and guns and things people sometimes find.'

‘Don't be stupid. They didn't have swords.'

‘Well how'd they cut people's heads off? With a karate chop?'

‘
Suh!
I've never seen one before,' she said.

Hector held it gingerly, as if he feared it would leap up and cut off his own head.

‘So what
have
you seen?' he asked, thinking of the keepsakes his grandfather had stored away: cartridges, a revolver and an old helmet. He also remembered the bomb that was unearthed near the primary school. He knew if you looked hard enough, there were World War Two relics everywhere on the island, just under the dirt beneath your feet.

‘I don't think I've seen anything,' she said.

‘Have you seen the beer bottles they used to drink from?'

‘No. Where?'

Hector thought she sounded impressed. ‘Up at the bunker on the cliff at Baringa Bay.'

‘When did you go up there?'

‘In grade six, the teacher took our class up. I've been there a few times since.'

‘What's up there?'

‘Just a bunker and a bath,' he said, grinning at her.

‘A bath—bullshit!'

‘True, I'll take you one day,' he said. He held the blade up once more, admiring its curve. ‘It's like new, it's beautiful.'

‘I like it,' Lily said.

With those three words she'd evoked the local custom of
pabwa.
Three small words which obliged every Tevuan to pass on a possession to whoever admired it. He had to give it to her now. Without hesitation he handed her the sword.

‘It's heavier than I thought,' she said. ‘And it's cold, so cold...'

He watched her face as she held the sword. She smiled to herself, and Hector thought he saw her nod her head ever so slightly.

‘What are you going to do with it?'

‘Keep it,' she said. ‘I need it for something.'

Hector frowned. The sword would have been a great item to take home for his grandfather's collection. What was Lily going to use it for? Chopping firewood? Never mind, he was sure he'd find other treasures on his trips through the forest. He bound the chicken's legs together then pushed the remaining string into his pocket.

‘We'll go up to the houses now and see what else we can find,' he said.

They picked their way through the forest, turning left at the small path which led up to Government Settlement. The first house they came to, a pale green bungalow surrounded by a low stone wall, was shaded by bean trees.

‘Whose house is this?' Lily asked.

‘Some white guy who lives on his own.' Cradling the chicken with difficulty, Hector climbed up onto the wall and beckoned Lily to follow. Her hesitation puzzled him. ‘What's wrong?'

‘Someone's there, I know it. I feel like the house is watching us.'

‘Don't worry; there's no one around at this time of day. He'll be at work. Come on.'

Lily hoisted herself onto the terrace using the sword to support her, and they crept around the outside of the house. They'd find something lying about, Hector thought. If not, there was always the wash house. People often left things behind in laundries: clothes, soap, plugs. If nothing else, you could always find pegs. As they rounded the front of the bungalow, the noise of an approaching car made them both duck.

‘Shit, Hector, police!' Lily cried and she sped off around the back of the house.

Hector swore to himself. Her fleeing would only draw attention to them. He peered over the top of the wall. Sure enough, there was a police car and it had slowed out the front of the house. He heard the car doors opening and the engine die all at once. Hector turned and sprinted around the back. Lily beckoned to him from the wash house door.

As he reached the building he thudded against the half-closed door, and had to use both hands to force it open further. The chicken dropped to the ground and Hector stumbled over it. The bird squawked loudly and flapped about, struggling to free itself from its hobbles.