Deadly Sky (ePub), The (8 page)

Maybe he's her boyfriend? Darryl thought as he approached the lodge. He felt sorry for the poor guy. Then he remembered – hey, Raoul's against the bomb, too. They can have lots of stupid talks about it together.

But as he walked, he couldn't forget those animals on the ships. Putting them in cages, to be killed or burned, or get radiation sickness: that was— But if it helped scientists learn how to protect
people
from any nuclear war, didn't that make it OK? ‘Nuclear weapons are scary, son,' his father had said. ‘But
not
having them, with those commie countries ready to invade – that's scarier.' Yeah, his dad was right. He—

‘'Allo,
Monsieur
Dah-reel.' It was Napoleon. In one
hand he held a long, wicked-looking machete; sunlight glinted on its blade. He saw the expression on Darryl's face, and laughed.

‘Do not feel worry. We use machete for coconuts, not for visitors. Tonight you eat coconut for dinner. We use it for eating, for medicine, for sore teeth. Very useful.' He smiled again at Darryl. ‘My wife say you are climbed the mountain?'

‘Yeah. Yeah, it was brilliant.' Darryl hesitated. ‘You were up there when one of the bombs went off?'

Napoleon's face went grave. ‘Yes. When I see it, the world changes. There is … like lightning, but red. Then a noise comes, like a great tree falling. And a wind, a wind from fire. Some people say there is a wave – not a wave like others: one that comes fast, rushes up the land a little way, then goes.'

He fell silent, gazing out to sea, then to Darryl's surprise, he chuckled. ‘You can talk to Alicia about the bomb. She says angry things. You talk to her.'

No thanks, thought Darryl. I've already had the lecture.

‘Mangareva is lucky,' Napoleon said. ‘Some islands, all the people have to leave. All the trees are cut down.' He shook his head. ‘But here is still good to live. You must go to the reef; it is most beautiful. All special people must see.'

I'm a special people – person? Darryl grinned to
himself. ‘Thanks. Cool,' he added. And it
will
be cool, he decided. Forget about Alicia, and her useless bomb stuff, and Raoul.

Except he couldn't forget them. Not her, anyway. Because his mother was back from talking to the principal, and, after she'd asked him if he'd been careful on the non-mountain, and if he'd put sunblock on, and after he'd snapped at her for nagging him, and they'd both gone quiet for a bit, she started saying how Principal Kara hoped Alicia would change her mind about coming to New Zealand, and how she – Mrs Davis – was going to talk to Alicia on the flight to Tahiti, and tell her what a perfect choice she would be. Darryl said nothing.

Dinner was early once again. More fish: it felt strange to be eating hardly any red meat, but he didn't mind.

His mother smiled at Alicia, who was bringing bread to their table. The girl's eyes were down and she didn't look at them. ‘
Bonjour
, Alicia. No –
bonsoir
. Good evening. Thank you.
Merci bien
.' The girl murmured something, but still didn't look up. Hey, don't be rude, Darryl thought.

It was the same when she brought the dessert. (Yes, it's coconut, all right, Darryl noticed. Coconut chopped up into little cubes, mixed with fresh fruit, and served
in the coconut shell. Great!) She didn't look at them; didn't say anything.

A few minutes later, he glimpsed her through the open doorway to the kitchen. Lily was talking to her, quietly but fast. Alicia … was she? … yes, she was crying. Trouble about her boyfriend maybe?

Yet when he was sliding off to sleep later, half-listening to the soft hiss of waves on the beach, the distant grunt of a pig somewhere, he thought of Alicia again. The way they'd talked on the beach. The way she'd laughed when she teased him. And now she was all miserable. Girls were weird.

The pigs were grunting again. No, not grunting. Squealing. Shrieking with fear. As he spun around to look, the sky split open, and white flame poured out. Darryl flung himself on the ground as the animals exploded in fire. Howling in agony, they rushed past where he grovelled, trying to claw his way into the earth.

His body contorted, and he lurched awake, panting, sweating, staring into the night. The terror of the nightmare, mixed with Alicia's story of those caged animals on the ships, slowly slid away.

For a moment, he thought he heard the girl's voice, murmuring somewhere near, and a second voice he half-
recognised replying. They stopped, almost as though they had heard him move in his bed. Darryl lay listening. Nothing. His imagination. He turned over and got comfortable. This time, there were no bad dreams.

‘May I walk with you?' Lily asked at breakfast. ‘When you talk to our church group?'

Mrs Davis smiled. ‘That would be lovely.'

The other woman picked up their plates, then paused. ‘I ask your help? Alicia, she studies English. Have you any English books she can read? While you are here?'

Darryl's mum pulled a face. ‘I'm afraid not – just work stuff.' She turned to Darryl. ‘How about that library book of yours, Da?'

Oh no, Darryl went to himself, thinking of
Deadly Cloud
. She'll be even more boring if she reads that. But he shrugged. ‘OK.'

He waited outside, under the trees, while his mother did her hair and checked her notes. Twenty metres away, the blue and green Pacific crept up the beach in tiny ripples. He tried to imagine the wave Napoleon had described, as it slid into the trees; remembered the gigantic one on television. They
had
to see something when they flew back to Tahiti.

A movement outside one of the buildings. His mother – no, Alicia, coming to borrow his library book.

But the girl was moving away, into the trees. She hadn't seen Darryl. Her head was down, like before. She looked tired, like she hadn't slept. As she went, he saw her slipping something into a brown cloth bag. Next minute, she'd disappeared among the tall brown and grey trunks.

She's hiding something, Darryl thought. A present from her boyfriend – if that's what Raoul is. He waited a few seconds, but the girl didn't reappear.

Darryl and his mother and Lily set off up the path, past more houses with white-washed walls, between more tall palms and big-leafed trees. Insects murmured; seabirds called above. ‘We are glad you will fly with Alicia when you leave,' Lily said. ‘She is strong girl, but so sad for her father. Your man, your husband, he is in
la Nouvelle-Zélande?
'

Mrs Davis glanced at her son, then lowered her voice as she replied. Darryl pretended not to hear, gazed at the trees as they moved on.

More people were on the path. Women, quite a few men, children. All smiled and said hello. Around a corner, and the tall white building with its towers edged
in red and blue was in front of them, a cross shining against the sky. Wide steps led up to a front porch, with a big curved doorway behind. More people stood outside, talking and laughing.

‘Dah-reel! Dah-reel!' Oh, man, it was that little kid again. Lannya. He gave her a small wave. She gave him a huge wave; next minute she was gabbling away to about six other little kids, pointing to her hair, then to him.

Two men stood by the doorway, smiling at them as they approached. Principal Kara and a man in priest's clothes. ‘
Bonjour, Madame et Monsieur
Day-vees,' went the principal. ‘I introduce to you Father Pierre.'

The other man smiled widely and shook their hands. ‘
Pardon
, I have not best English. Welcome, welcome.'

Wow! thought Darryl as they all moved inside. A high, curved plaster ceiling of white-blue stretched away towards the far end of the church. Tall pillars of orange-painted wood stood on either side. The priest led them down the aisle towards the front pews, and the altar.

What an altar! A cross in the middle. Glowing flowers and crowns on either side, made out of shells, and – it couldn't be – yes, pearls. Creamy white pearls that shone in the sunlight pouring through high windows. Darryl sat and stared while the speeches murmured around him.

The congregation burst into song, jerking Darryl back to what was happening. It was an amazing song,
proud and powerful. Men's and women's voices, and kids piping among them.

The meeting ended, and Lannya and another small girl trotted forward with necklaces of cream, ivory and golden shells. Darryl braced himself for the sticky kiss on both cheeks. Instead, he got
two
sticky kisses on both cheeks, one from each little kid. More clapping.

They came out into the dazzling sunshine. People surrounded Mrs Davis, smiling and shaking her hand. Many of them shook Darryl's as well, while he mumbled ‘Yeah, mercy, yeah'. Then he realised both of his hands were being held. When he glanced down, there was Lannya and her friend, little brown fingers slipped into his. At first he felt relieved that his friends couldn't see him, then he realised he didn't really care all that much. In fact, he felt good.

Back at the lodge, Lily went off to prepare lunch. His mother went off to change. Darryl put on shorts, looked down at his fairly brown (at last!) legs, shook his head, and wandered outside, across the few metres to the beach.

Alicia was standing there, gazing out towards the horizon. Darryl began to turn away, but as he was still feeling so good he called out ‘Hi'.

The girl whirled around. Her long black hair swung sideways, and her eyes stared. The tiny scar above her eyebrow stood out white. She looked so frightened that Darryl stumbled half a step backwards in alarm.

Alicia began to reach a hand towards him, but snatched it back and gasped ‘
Non!
' Then she seemed to recognise who he was. She dragged in a deep breath; Darryl could see her struggling to get control of herself.

‘
Pardon
,' she said at last. ‘I am—
pardon
, I am learning the words. The English.'

No, she wasn't. She was lying. Frightened and lying. Darryl's brain seemed to have gone on strike: he couldn't think what to say. The girl opened her mouth again, then closed it and looked away.

‘Have you been reading the book?' Darryl heard himself say. Hell, what a feeble thing to ask!

‘I –
oui
– yes, the book … What— what is “domesteek”?'

Darryl blinked, than realised. ‘“Domestic”. It means homes and houses and stuff. Why?'

Her voice was firmer now. She was trying hard to sound normal. ‘The book tells if a little nuclear bomb explode, domesteek buildings eight kilometres away will destroy – be destroy. Eight kilometres is almost our whole island.' She paused. ‘What is “char-red”? It say people's skin is char-red.'

He remembered this one; he'd read the same pages.
‘Burned. It means sort of burned black. Like meat.' Aw, yuk! he heard his mind go.

Alicia was silent. Her eyes flicked to the sea, to the waves along the beach, as though she was expecting something to happen. Darryl stood uncertainly. Was she all right? She—

Then she spoke. Quietly, as if to herself. She didn't look at him. Words in French, then, still quietly: ‘Someone must stop.'

Darryl watched. Lily had mentioned something about Alicia saying this. ‘You—'

Then his mother's voice came: ‘Darryl? Lunch!'

The girl didn't seem to hear. She was gazing at the sea again, the gentle stretch of green and blue, with small clouds still sailing along the horizon. Then she said it again: ‘Someone must stop.'

What's she on about now? Darryl wondered, as he and his mum ate lunch. The shutters were open, the dining room filled with quiet light. Is she planning a protest march here on Mangareva? Is that why she was talking to that Raoul guy? How come she knows him, anyway?

More likely she was just behaving like that to feel important. Anyway, he grinned to himself, it would be hard to have a protest march in a place where you've got hardly any roads.

As they left the dining room, Napoleon called after them. ‘
Madame
Day-vees!
Monsieur
Dah-reel! You like to visit the reef? Very beautiful; very many fish.'

Great, Darryl thought; he'd been hoping Napoleon would take them there. His mother nodded. ‘
Merci bien
. Thank you. I'll come for a while, then I need to start writing my report. You want to go, don't you, son?' Darryl nodded. Too right he did.

Napoleon looked pleased. ‘You meet Alicia here … Oh, one hour.'

Alicia! Aw, no. ‘I help friend with his pearl farm, so I am busy,' Napoleon went on. He held something out to Darryl. ‘You book is here. Alicia say to thank you.'

Mum can talk to her, Darryl decided, as he took
Deadly Cloud.
I'll keep clear.

‘There is a visitor for dinner,' Napoleon was saying now. ‘I must catch more fish after I help my friend.
Au revoir
.' He moved off. A visitor, thought Darryl. Someone from the church, probably. Mum can talk to them, too.

Darryl sat in the shade of a tall shrub with red flowers while he waited for his mother and Alicia.

‘Dah-reel?' He jerked as the girl spoke. She was wearing a blue and red dress with no sleeves. She
smiled, and her teeth did that flashing thing again. ‘You will visit the reef?'

Darryl realised he was staring: the smile, the sudden friendliness, the dark hair and eyes. Quickly, he went: ‘Yeah. Yeah, sure. How do we get out there? By boat?'

The girl shook her head. ‘We walk. I will show.'

Mrs Davis came out of the lodge, holding her camera. ‘We've still got enough photos left. The reef sounds a good place to take some.'

She wore white shorts and a striped top. Alicia gazed at her. ‘You are pretty.'

Darryl's mother touched the girl's arm. ‘Thank you, dear. So are you.'

How about we stop all the soppy talk? Darryl went to himself.

But she was right: his mum did look pretty. Pretty and younger, somehow.

‘You have shoes?' Alicia glanced down at their feet. ‘Good. The reef is sharp.'

‘How about you?' Darryl's mother peered at the bare brown toes. The girl giggled. ‘My uncle say my feet is – are – hard. Even harder than my head, he say.'

She led them along the beach, in the opposite direction from where he'd headed to climb Mount
(Mount!) Duff. ‘We walk on reef there.' She pointed towards the far end of the sand, where a dark line led out into the sea.

‘No sharks, I hope?' asked Mrs Davis.

The girl nodded. ‘Sometime. Not now.' As the other two stared, she said, ‘They swim north in winter, to warm parts. For to have their babies. Sometime we see whales in deep part, and … I forget the name … eagle rays.' Wow! Darryl went to himself.

As they reached the end of the beach, Alicia lifted one hand. ‘Wait, please.'

Darryl looked where she was gazing. The same old lady he'd seen before, kneeling and tossing something into the sea. ‘She is Noah's grandmama,' Alicia murmured. ‘Another grandson has died on the fishing boat when my father is drowned. Noah must go to help them some days.'

They stood watching. ‘She dreams the sea has poison now,' Alicia said. ‘She pray to the ocean, throw clean sand to make the water good again.'

After a few moments, the old figure straightened up and moved back into the trees. The other three walked on, towards where a long belt of lumpy, greyish rock curved into the ocean, just beneath the water. They began wading out, placing their feet carefully on the rough surface. Small green and pink plants swayed. They were ankle-deep, then shin-deep, then knee-deep.

Longer, thicker plants, purple and orange, stirred as they moved past. Starfish, small, plump and dark-red, or long-armed and greeny-blue. A flicker of gold-and-red, and a small fish darted by. ‘Oh, look!' exclaimed Darryl's mother, as others glided past. Some had orange fins and bright blue bodies; some were striped black and white like tiny ocean zebras.

‘Wonderful!' Mrs Davis kept going. ‘Just beautiful!'

Darryl gazed around, at the perfect blue arch of sky, the sparkling stretch of sea. He wanted to remember this forever.

His mother threw her arms around him. ‘Isn't it gorgeous, Da?' As Darryl stood stiff with embarrassment, he saw Alicia smiling at them, but with a different look in her eyes. He thought again of how her parents had died.

They picked their way out for another twenty metres or so. The water was just above their knees now, warm and calm. Fish flitted all around; it was like standing in a tropical aquarium.

‘A photo! Alicia, would you please take a photo of us? Take two.' His mother passed over the camera, and put an arm around her son.

Alicia aimed the camera. ‘Say
fromage
– is French word for cheese.' She clicked. ‘
Encore
– again.'

Mrs Davis reached out a hand. ‘Thank you, dear. Now I'll take one of you and Darryl.'

I don't have to put my arm around her, do I? Darryl thought.

He and the girl stood side by side, not looking at each other. She was shorter than he'd realised. Her hair stirred in the soft breeze; it smelt clean.

‘Great!' went his mother. ‘Now, I'm going to work on my report. You two can stay and look some more. Darryl, you should be wearing that sunhat. You'll get burned, and your nose will peel.'

‘Shut
up
, Mum,' Darryl muttered under his breath, as his mother started wading back towards the beach. He and Alicia still didn't look at each other. The warm water lapped. More jewel-coloured fish slipped past. Darryl lifted his face to the sun – never mind the sunburn! – and spoke before he realised it. ‘This is just amazing!'

Alicia stood gazing out to sea also. ‘You can know now why I do not want the bomb.'

‘I know the tests must seem really bad to you, but atomic weapons can stop wars from happening. They make it too dangerous. Nuclear bombs help keep us safe.'

It sounded weird as he said it. Even weirder, Alicia just nodded. ‘I have read that, too. But our water and our beaches are how we eat, where we live. We do not want the radioactive in them.'

‘Look,' the firmness in his voice startled Darryl, ‘my
grandfather was a prisoner-of-war in Japan in World War II. The Japanese said that all of the prisoners would be killed if they were invaded. He'd survived being captured and starved and all sorts of things. And now they might all be taken out and shot.'

The girl's dark eyes were fixed on him.

‘Grandad was a hundred kilometres away from Hiroshima, but the whole sky flashed, and there was this sound like mountains falling. The moment he saw the black mushroom cloud pouring up, he knew somehow he was going to live.' A pause. Was he actually saying all this? ‘And sure enough, the Japs surrendered. So the nuclear weapons saved his life. And they probably saved thousands – maybe millions – of those who would have been caught up in the invasion.'

Alicia was silent for a few seconds. She looked at him,
really
looked, in a way no girl ever had before. ‘Thank you. That is true, too. It is trouble sometimes to decide,
oui?
'

She smiled, so suddenly that Darryl blinked. ‘We will not have the argument anymore. You are our guest.' She pronounced it
‘goo-est'
; Darryl made sure he didn't grin.

She's different, he knew. She's not behaving like she was before. What—

The girl interrupted his thoughts. ‘I say the word right? It is goo-est?'

Darryl felt awkward. He didn't want to sound like a teacher. ‘Actually, it's “gest”.'

Alicia sighed. ‘My English is poor.'

‘No. No, you're good. I— I can't speak French at all.'

The girl's teeth shone again. ‘I will teach you. “Fish” is
poisson.
“Shark” is
requin.'

Darryl mumbled ‘Poison … reckon', and she laughed. She's teasing me again, he realised. He didn't mind; he almost liked it. And he felt glad that the ‘Someone must stop' business seemed all over and done with.

They picked their way a little further along the reef. It was like walking on a rainbow: fish, plants, the clean green water on either side. A small, perfectly round rock showed just above the surface. Wait until he told his friends back home about this.

A canoe with two men slid past, twenty metres away, fishing nets draped over the side. One man called out to Alicia, who waved. ‘My uncle's cousin. They search for fish – is not easy to find now.' She glanced towards the shore; the beach was empty. ‘I am sorry
ton père
– your father – has gone away.'

Darryl glanced at her, and she looked embarrassed. ‘My auntie tell me.' He remembered his mother and
Lily talking together as they strolled to church that morning.

‘I'm sorry about your dad, too.' Once again, his words startled him. He glanced at the girl; had he put his foot in his big mouth?

But her face was quiet. ‘I am sad for him. I wish to – I
will
– do things for him.' She looked at the beach a second time. ‘Will you see your father?'

At first he didn't know what to say. ‘I hope so. Yeah, I hope so. He's in Australia.'

Her head came up, and she stared at him. ‘My cousin, he has worked in Australia.' She paused for a moment, then she went on, quickly: ‘You can sail on the boat to Australia? From
la Nouvelle-Zélande
?'

When he told her how far it was, she breathed ‘
Oh là là!
' like the woman teacher had, and once more he had to try not to grin.

‘Your school?' she asked next. ‘How is it like?'

So Darryl told her about the number of kids (she gasped), and the boring grey uniform (she shook her head), and how it was boys only. Alicia looked puzzled. ‘Why are not girls there?'

Because they're weird, said Darryl – silently. She was so different from the strange, prickly person he'd talked to on the beach yesterday afternoon. He remembered something else. ‘That guy you were with—'

But Alicia was looking around at the sea. ‘The tide
is coming up. We must leave. Or perhaps we ride
un requin
, yes?'

They smiled at each other, glanced away. Then Alicia's expression suddenly changed. She was staring at the little round rock. It had moved, he saw. Then, as she pressed her hands to her mouth and gasped, he realised also.

The dead turtle floated face-down, shell just breaking the surface. It was black along one side. What had—

A soft surge of water lifted the body and tilted it. Darryl's lips drew back as he gazed. The long neck and delicate head were half-burned away. One eye had gone. The beak was blackened as well. The turtle looked as though fire had stormed all over it.

‘It is the bomb!' Alicia gabbled. ‘The bomb has killed it!'

Darryl made himself speak. ‘It could have been any—'

The girl jerked her head. Her eyes still stared. ‘
Non! Les tortues
– the turtles – they swim the deep ocean. They never are on land, unless they lay eggs. This one has been near Mururoa, and the bomb kills it! Horrible!'

Darryl was silent. Another little wave lifted the dead creature. Slowly it began to drift away from the reef. Alicia stood, hands squeezed together, murmuring to herself in French or Mangarevan. The water lapped
higher around their legs. Finally she dragged in a breath, and said once more, ‘We must leave.'

They picked their way back, through glittering little fish, bright gardens of underwater plants, and out onto the crunchy sand. But it was the dead, blackened turtle that Darryl kept seeing.

As they started back along the beach, the girl took another deep breath, and asked: ‘Your school has pupils from our islands? From
le Pacifique?
'

She'd got control of herself again. Darryl felt relieved. ‘Yeah. Maybe Noah could come to us?'

Alicia nodded. ‘That is good. And perhaps I— your mother ask me. I— I go to Tahiti and then … then I think …'

Her voice trailed away. Darryl glanced at her. She must be picturing that scorched body again. It was horrible all right, no matter what had caused it. They were almost at the lodge now.

‘I have to go,' she said. ‘I will help my auntie for dinner.'

Darryl remembered something. ‘You've got a visitor coming?'

The girl hesitated. ‘Yes. He—'

But Darryl was staring ahead, at where a figure in blue trousers, sandals, and a white shirt stood by the lodge, watching them come. The man saw Darryl gazing, and raised a hand.