The Reef (47 page)

‘I hadn’t really thought about the people at that level. The ichthyocentaurs, yes, because I studied them.’ He paused, thinking. ‘Guess I never looked at the people that much. You just expect people’s relationships, especially the sexual part, to be normal, whatever that means, wherever you are.’ Then, ‘So, do you not feel any sadness for Forb?,

‘Manolin, I know he told you to have me. I know because I asked him to. And he wanted it too. I’m sad, of course I am. But he wanted you to be with me, especially if he went.’

‘What? What kind of lives to you all live here? A husband would be willing to permit wife with another man? I couldn’t share. I’m not like that. Where I’m from, a man stays with a woman.’ The irony of his wife’s infidelities didn’t escape him.

‘Then don’t share. I wanted it with Forb here. He always said it was like owning a beautiful pond, which is like a lagoon but inland. He said that it would be tranquil, and beautiful, and he could swim in it any day he wanted. Some people, who had a nice pond, would not want anyone else to swim in it, but others would enjoy seeing others swim in it and it would make everyone happy. Manolin, I don’t understand your ways, but I just wanted you to have me.’

Manolin laughed. ‘Oh, I’d love to, believe me. But tonight?’

‘Why not? I think you’re assuming too much about us.’

‘Hello? Your husband’s funeral?’

‘Life goes on: that’s all we know. Anyway, what night could be better? I want to feel good,
especially
tonight, and we won’t spend another night together after this. I need you more than I ever could. Tonight,I have never felt sadder and I want comfort from you.’

Manolin knelt next to her. ‘I can comfort you, but not how you’d wish.’ He couldn’t get his head around her attitudes to sexuality. There was a perverse logic involved, but emotions were spinning around his head.

She turned to face him. They both stared at one another as if each were a puzzle. He looked down at the island rag that barely covered her. He felt a swelling in his throat. His mouth was dry. He reached for a strand of her hair, which had spiralled down over her breasts. He pushed her hair out of the way and stared at them like an adolescent. He felt very young, and primal.

‘I would love to, Myranda. But, tonight of all nights? I’d feel more than guilty. I’m not sure you really follow. If anything was to happen, and I’m certainly not saying it ought to, then I’d want it to be ... well, a little less inconvenient.’

‘He wanted it. I want it. I want it so much.’ She began to unbutton his shirt eagerly, as if she was unwrapping a present. It was clumsy yet endearing. His arms fell to his side as she slid his shirt off. They were still kneeling, facing each other. He ran his hands down her arm. They stood up then she pulled his breeches down and his first thought was to looked around, paranoid that someone would watch. His hands twitched as if wanting to stop her, but not totally giving in to temptation.

He could feel the cool evening air on his loins. ‘Look, let’s step nearer the forest.’

They walked, hand in hand, Manolin carrying his clothes under his arm, up the shore then she stopped him. She kissed his neck and could feel her breasts, firm and large against his chest. He held his hands out behind her, uncertain, full of hesitation. He spread his fingers out and touched the muscles of her back, pushed her rags down to the ground, feeling every curve, then dabbed her smooth skin with the back of his hand. He grabbed her waist and he felt something deep within his chest as he realised how firm and small it was and he wanted her, there and then, more than anything, but he was thinking, also, that he shouldn’t. He was shaking, stared off into the distance as she kissed his neck.

He thought of Forb, of his ex-wife, of Becq and of Myranda, who was presently running her tongue along his collar-bone. He could hear the sea, loud and raw, when they fell naked on to the sand and he could feel the strange sensation of the tiny grains as they rolled onto their sides. She ran her hands along his hips then brought his hands on to hers, and his fingers dragged along her legs. She paused, looked at him and kissed him on the lips, then nibbled his bottom one. He noted how white and round her eyes were against her skin. He groaned and smiled, feeling that same stirring in his chest, then he felt her cool hand on his groin.

She pushed him so that he was lying flat and, as he closed his eyes, she began to play with his cock like he hoped she might. Her hand was cool, and she kissed down his stomach until she placed his cock in her mouth, began to suck gently.

He stared up at the night sky, worried. She kept playing but he was not becoming turned on. He was conscious of this as the seconds passed. The more he thought about it the less he felt aroused. When she drew back he could feel the wind chilling her saliva on his flaccid pems.

He sat up, saw that she was staring at him. She became suddenly distant, as if he were a stranger. She let go, but he brought her closer.

‘Just hold me,’ he said. ‘I’d really like that.’

She said, ‘Do you not like me after all then?’ Her words were full of vulnerability. ‘Yes, yes, of course I do.’ He put his arms around her. ‘You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this. It’s just. .. ‘

‘Forb.’ Her shoulders sagged.

‘Well,yes.’

‘I don’t understand you.’

‘Where I come from, it’s simply not a good thing to do so soon, that’s all. Especially if you really like someone. I liked the both of you.’ ‘But I wanted you to have me,’ she said. ‘I wanted this. I won’t see you again. It’s really important.’ ‘I know. I know. But just holding you all night would make me happy, more than you can understand. I don’t know ‘bout you.’ She smiled, but Manolin couldn’t tell if she felt insulted. ‘Yes, I’d like that too.’ ‘I like you far too much, and I liked Forb, too. It’s just my way of respecting him.’

They lay back down on the sand, in the darkness by the forest, and they could hear the villagers in the distance. She curled up next to him, nuzzling by his neck, and he held her close. It was another warm night and he could smell the fragrance from the forest and hear the trees moving in the wind.

As she slept he lay there looking at the stars, replaying his life in his mind. He was thinking of scenes in Escha. He remembered the bustling streets, the smells. Tens of thousands of people and hardly any of them smiled. He thought of the bars, the churches, the brothels, the drug houses-all
ways for people to run away from actually living,
he thought. He reached for his clothes and dragged his shirt over him and Myranda. His left hand was flat on the sand, and he clawed at it, feeling how soft and fine the grains were. He breathed in this clean, fresh air. In the distance he could hear laughter and in the forest behind, a bird squawked. Then, as a firefly zipped in circles above his head, and, as Myranda stirred beneath his jaw, he smiled.

Morning, and Manolin threw his bags on the beach in front of the lagoon. He looked back at the huts that had been his home. The sun was hidden behind a low ridge of nimbus clouds. He thought that they should bum away soon enough, and that the day would turn out all right.

Up ahead on the beach, Santiago, Becq, Jefry and Yana were standing next to two rafts. A group of villagers had gathered around. He could see their ship’s sail in the distance, poking up over several palms.
So they were going,
he thought.

To his right, a group of ichthyocentaurs walked down to him with their thick tails, their slightly waddled walk. He smiled because he saw that they looked towards Santiago first, but walked over to him. Seven of the creatures gathered around him and they signed greetings, which he returned.

It’s a shame, you are going, Manolin,
one said.

Don’t feel like that,
he said.

But you were such a good thing for us.

How?
Manolin signed.

You took an interest in us. We felt comfortable with you around. And you have made an effort to stop the deaths. They have stopped for now. We wish you could stay.

No goodbyes, please. Not necessary.
He picked up his bags, placed them on his shoulder, walked towards the village. As he passed the hut that Forb had been sharing with Myranda, he threw his bags on the sand in front.

Myranda opened the door at the sound, then stepped out, her eyes wide.

‘Are you going now?’ she said.

She was standing, one foot behind the other, her hands held in front of her fingering her ragged skirt, the sadness and confusion in her eyes. He looked up and down her body and brushed his hair back.

He said, ‘No. If it’s okay with you, I’ll stay.’

She looked at him through strands of her hair that blew across her face. ‘What?’ ‘If it’s okay with you. I’ll just let the others know I shall not be requiring a lift back.’

He doubted if he would forget the smile she gave at that moment. She did not move, did not make the moment too dramatic for him. It was nothing like in the ridiculous plays his ex-wife forced him along to see back in Escha. Her smile was genuine, saying enough. It confirmed that he did not want the competition and drama of the city. He did not want to push his career as far as others wanted. Did not want to spend his shillings with others in bars, drinking away his free time. Did not want to walk on streets brushing shoulders with strangers who glared at him as he knocked them.

He knew men did things like this-they gave up their lives for some girl. He wasn’t the first, wouldn’t be the last. He didn’t care if it all went wrong, so long as he had more nights like the previous one, because he felt sensuality more than he had ever known, and it was like he had felt closer to some spiritual plain.

It wasn’t just Myranda, either. It was the island as a whole, the entire system. And she wasn’t just some girl. When he looked at her he saw a million potentials.

He walked along the beach towards Santiago and the rest of the crew. His shirt rippled in the pleasant breeze. He was breathing heavily, nervous at the coming moment. He could feel his heart beating and began to alter his stride, becoming more confident and purposeful. He clenched his fists. The others were hunched over the rafts, loading their belongings.

Santiago turned. ‘So, you’re here at last.’ Brushing his moustache down with is finger and thumb, he looked Manolin up and down. ‘Where’re your bags, man?’

‘Oh, by Myranda’s hut.’

‘Well then, lad’ Santiago said. ‘Go get ‘em.’

Manolin curled his mouth into a pout, shrugged his shoulders. ‘Nope. No need.’ ‘Manny,’ Becq said. ‘What d’you mean?’ ‘Yes, Manolin,’ Santiago said. ‘What
do
you mean?’ ‘I won’t be going back.’ Yana and Jefry stood up from being hunched over the raft. Santiago rolled up his shirt sleeves. ‘What? The hell you won’t. Go get your things.’ Manolin said, ‘I’m not sure you actually understand, old man. I’m staying here.’ Becq stepped closer to Manolin. ‘But, why would you want to? What’s here? There’s nothing here.’

Manolin nodded. ‘Well, not entirely nothing.’

‘What d’you mean?’ she said.

‘What he means,’ Santiago said, ‘is that he’s being fooled by yet another woman.’ He turned to Manolin. ‘Don’t be a fool, lad. Don’t be a fool again.’ ‘Look, I’m staying. I won’t have my life dictated to by an ageing gigolo. I want to be free of all your bickering, your in-fighting, your competition, your work. And it’s not because of a woman, it’s because I want to discover what it really means to exist. It can’t be done in that city.’

They looked at each other without flinching or exchanging a word. Manolin felt their relationship severing, the years together gone on the next and last boat out. All that remained now was their stares.

‘Manny,’ Becq said. ‘Don’t be like this.’

‘Look, Becq,’ Manolin said, ‘I’m sorry. But your father has spent most of his life controlling me. Yes, I’m grateful. But sometimes an old man gets jealous from failing his own life.’ He glanced up at Santiago then looked Becq right in the eye. ‘I know you felt something for me-’

‘She’s always made bad decisions,’ Santiago said.

‘For once in your life don’t speak. Don’t be the man you’ve always been, the type most men are, and just think about your daughter’s emotions.’ Manolin looked at Becq and said, ‘You’ve felt something for me, haven’t you?’

She gave a vague smile, strong, not wanting to show any defeat. A few months ago she would be upset now, but the island had changed her.

‘I think you’re smashing,’ he said. ‘I really do, but your head is screwed on properly. You should find yourself a decent man.’ He was amazed at how confidently he spoke. He had never been like that before. ‘I’m not going to patronise you like some-’ he glanced at Santiago ‘but I think you know as well as I do that you’ve changed since you’ve been here. You’re more than capable of getting some of what you want.’

Becq smiled vaguely.

‘Oh, please,’ Santiago said. ‘Spare me your false heroics. The girl’s better off without a wet bastard like you anyway.’ He ushered his daughter away from Manolin, and placed her between Yana and Jefry. Yana put her arms around Becq. Santiago turned back, speaking aloud, ‘Besides, by all accounts, his sexual technique isn’t enough to keep a woman.’ He looked directly at Manolin. ‘What was it then? Just didn’t satisfy your wife?’