Loku and the Shark Attack

LOKU

and the shark attack

DEBORAH CARLYON was born in Papua New Guinea, where she grew up listening to many stories about village life and evil spirits. When she came to teach at Noosa (where the river meets the sea), all the stories came back to her and
Loku
was born.

Adult Non-fiction

Mama Kuma: One Woman, Two Cultures

Winner 2001 Queensland Premier's Literary Award

This book is dedicated to
Sienna Ku Bishoff
Many thanks to Jay Bishoff for
his tireless editing

CONTENTS

Author bio

Also by Deobrah Carlyon

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Imprint Page

Chapter One

Loku's lean brown body glistened beneath the orange eyelash of the afternoon sun. Drops of saltwater ran down his back as he left the sea and walked across the white-gold sand of the beach. He was listening to the sound of the incoming tide pounding the shore behind him. On the horizon were matchstick-sized silhouettes of fishermen, their canoes lulling in the calm distance. Turning, Loku paused to gaze seaward as his father and uncles paddled over the silky surface toward the breaking waves. He smiled and breathed deeply. His world was shimmering blue.

‘Ayi, Loku!' voices shouted. His cousins were calling out and running toward him. Their laughter warmed the air as they fell in the sand along the way, tripping each other's feet. As they came closer, Loku's twin brother, Nul, beamed a broad grin as he kicked a coconut husk high over Loku's head. The game had begun.

There were no rules, just running and kicking. All the boys ran swiftly, chasing and tackling each other for the fibrous husk. They kicked it to one another until it was splayed and torn. All the time, the colours of crimson and magenta crept over the sky, as the sun prepared to close her eye.

Loku and some of the other boys walked down to the sea to help the men carry their nets and catch. Loku's father and uncles were happy for their help. While Loku was pulling the canoes up the beach, safely beyond the high tide line, he noticed that Nul was not with him. As he lifted the heavy basket of fish, he could hear Nul and his younger cousins laughing in the distance.

He walked up the beach, toward the cluster of huts, and Loku could see
Lapun Papa
on the outdoor bamboo sitting-bed. He saw his mother bent over the coals of the outside fire, blowing on the embers. Puffs of smoke sighed in thin wisps above the low-burning fire. All this was familiar to Loku, but today he wasn't at peace. He sensed that something was not quite right, but he wasn't sure what was different.

Loku noticed his feet beginning to drag in the sand. Slowly he came to his mother and lowered the basket of fish beside her. She thanked him by patting his legs, then she placed the fish – head and all, for the head was the tastiest – onto the fire. She didn't wash the fish in the river water for, like everyone else in Loku's village, she enjoyed the taste of sea salt on fresh fish.

Reaching the edge of
Lapun Papa's
sitting bed, Loku lowered his head slightly to show respect. His grandfather squinted his soft, nearly-blind eyes lovingly at his grandson, and he patted the bed, motioning for Loku to sit beside him.

Loku sat quietly because that was his nature. Usually this was a peaceful time, he and
Lapun Papa
sitting together and watching his mother prepare food. Loku did not have to tell his grandfather much, because
Lapun Papa
lived with him and knew the rhythm of each day.

Lapun Papa
knew Loku would rise early in the morning and collect sticks for his mother's fire and then he would pull his father's canoe down to the soft lapping waves while the tide was out. He knew Loku often spent the day fishing with his father, and that he sometimes stayed in the village, helping other men repair their nets and sharpen their harpoons and spears.
Lapun Papa
knew Loku would return in the evening to sit with him while Loku's mother prepared their food.

But today something was different.

Loku looked out across the village to the shadows that moved beneath the palm trees. There was Nul, laughing and playing with his cousins. Nul was always having fun while Loku worked. Loku didn't usually mind. Nul was his brother and that was just the way Nul was.

But today, when Nul returned for the evening meal, and his mother patted his legs and thanked him for looking after his younger cousins, Loku's face contorted. He pressed his lips together to hide new feelings of annoyance and jealousy.

That evening, in the company of his
Lapun Papa,
father, uncles, brother and boy cousins, Loku did not feel like eating. He left his barely eaten fish head on the banana leaf plate. Quietly, he washed his hands and slowly climbed the steps to the small hut that he shared with his grandfather and brother.

Clean bamboo mats made by his mother and aunts lay on the wooden floor. He looked out the window-opening, across the moon-shining sea. He was almost night-dreaming when he felt Nul's hands grab and jolt him from behind.

Recognising his brother in the dark, Loku swallowed with relief, but he clenched his jaw. Nul was excited and wanted to share a secret with him – a secret of adventure. Nul spoke as softly as he could, but he could barely keep his voice to a whisper as he told Loku what he had done.

Nul had spent the day secretly following Jikup, the famous shark hunter from another tribe. Nul had paddled out in one of his father's canoes. He had struggled against the outgoing tide while trying to hug the shoreline. Finally, he reached the grassy inlet to ‘the place of black snakes'. This place was for men only. Boys were forbidden to go there.

By following Jikup, Nul had arrived at the clearing, and he saw lots of canoes huddled together. From the animal totems carved into the sides of the canoes he could tell that there were many canoes from other tribes.

With excitement building in his voice, Nul told how he had stepped out of his father's canoe and pulled it onto the sand. He hid the canoe, with its carved turtle totem, in the tall grass, then followed Jikup's footprints to where the men were gathered in the special area. Hiding behind a huge rock, he watched them.

An older man, one Nul had seen once before, lay his spear down and welcomed the men. He did this in four languages including the language Nul and Loku spoke. ‘Our father and uncles were there too,' Nul whispered.

Loku held his breath. Nul's eyes sparkled in the dark as he finished his story.

The older man had told how the sharks were travelling up the river in order to wash off their barnacles in the fresh water. He also spoke about the dry season and reminded the men how important it was for them to use green leaves when they made smoke signals to let other tribes know they were going on to their territory.

‘It was all men's business!' said Nul smugly. Listening wide-eyed in the dark, Loku felt a pang of jealousy pull at his tongue. ‘I'm going to have an adventure, too!' he said.

Nul laughed and replied, ‘No you're not. You always do the right thing. You're a Responsible Boy. You're like
Lapun Papa
but young.' Nul sensed Loku's hurt feelings in the silence that followed and he tried to explain. ‘You wouldn't have an adventure because you're a good boy!'

Loku was surprised and hurt by these strong words, and he realised they stung more because they were true. He didn't speak again that night. He lay awake on his mat, resolving to have his own adventure the next day.