A Tiger in Eden (22 page)

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Authors: Chris Flynn

Tags: #fiction, #adventure

BOOK: A Tiger in Eden
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20

A bunch of trackers came through five minutes later, they were beating the undergrowth with big sticks and a couple of them had dart guns, they went mad when they seen us, shouting and carrying on.

Aye take it easy, I says, how were we supposed to know there was a fucking tiger on the loose sure there’s no signs or nothing.

Lana was recovered a bit by then we were sitting down having a drink of water and trying to decide if we should turn back or not. No mention of getting devoured in
Southeast Asia on a Shoestring,
she goes.

I laughed even though it wasn’t funny really, where the fuck’d the tiger come from, I says to one of the trackers who was trying to tell us to go away in broken English, escape, he says, private zoo for tourists, youse are fucking
mad in this country, I goes, your tiger went that way if you’re looking for him.

That set them all going again shouting and guldering at each other and off they went after the beast.

I feel like sending them the wrong way, Lana goes, giving it a chance to get away.

Aye I thought of that too, I says, only what if it claws the face off of someone or snaffles up a wean better they catch it.

I hope they don’t hurt it, she says.

I felt the same even though we’d just faced it down and could of been its breakfast.

Should we go on, I says. Lana stood up then, definitely, she goes, I don’t believe in going back.

A wee trickle of water crossed the track about a mile further along and we followed it upstream as per the barman’s instructions stepping from stone to stone at first but eventually not worrying about getting our shoes wet and just splashing through the shallows, the water was dead clear, we made better time that way and by about three o’clock we could hear the waterfall up ahead. The canopy opened up above us then allowing the sun to come through and as we moved out of the shade I stopped and dropped the pack so’s I could peel off my aul T-shirt, it was soaking so it was. I stood in the sun for a bit arms spread wide to soak up the heat. Lana came and stood beside me on a flat rock wobbling slightly as she did the same she had a new bikini on underneath her T-shirt she held her hands out straight and wafted air
under her arms, there was big sweat patches on her T-shirt and red strap marks on her shoulders where her pack had been.

I stuffed my soaking-wet T-shirt into the bag and fished out a bottle of water that was almost empty, I drank half of what was left and offered the last of it to Lana her hair had gone dark where it was stuck to her forehead and ears she looked like she needed a wee bit of refreshment sort of thing.

The waterfall was a bit disappointing after such a long aul hike through the jungle but we were still glad to have found it the water was flowing dead slow over a two-metre-wide shelf in the rock face then plunged about another ten metres into a shallow pool below, from there it dandered through a series of rocks down to the stream we’d been following to get there, not exactly Niagara Falls, Lana goes.

Have you been there, I says, I always fancied it. Yeah, she goes, once when my parents took us on a trip to Canada an old friend of my dad’s was working in Toronto. I was about twelve. You can get really close to the drop it’s pretty amazing though a girl had jumped the day before we got there.

You’re kidding me on, I says, does that happen often like?

I guess so, she says, I mean if you’re going to kill yourself it’s a pretty dramatic place to do it.

Youse Americans love the drama don’t ye’s.

About as much as we love the Irish, she goes, so out
of the blue I grabbed her around the waist and lifted her up and waded into the water she let out a big shriek and batted her fists against my chest but she couldn’t stop me from dunking her in the pool. I was laughing as she stood up waving her arms and shaking the water from her hair, right you’re dead, she goes.

She took a lunge at me and I stepped back to try and get out of her way but I slipped on the aul mossy bottom of the pool and sat down on my arse in the water. Lana cackled as she splashed me but I stood up dead quick and scampered back to the rocks, fuck sake, I says, you could of waited until I had my trunks on.

It’s funny how you call them trunks, she goes, you’re not that well endowed you know, is that right, I says, and I suppose you’re an expert in these matters are ye?

I am a young woman of some experience yes, she goes, aye right, I says, I don’t want to know about that thank you very much.

My shorts were soaking so I undid the buttons and took them off underwear too which got me a wolf whistle from Lana who was floating on her back and watching me. I laid them out on a rock in the sun and turned to strike an aul corny body-builder pose. Not bad, she says, God you’re tan it’s so annoying.

I waded back into the pool and leaned forward to start swimming sticking my tongue out as I passed her heading for the falls. She went back to shore and took off her own shorts and bikini draping them dead careful next to my clothes on the rocks. She stood in a star shape
next to the pool then throwing her head back to the sky, at last we can get naked here, she says, there were too many people around at the resort.

I’d reached the falling water and pulled myself up onto a rock, streams of cold liquid poured down over my head and shoulders shocking me into taking sharp breaths. I tensed up against the sudden drop in temperature and watched Lana through the spray of the waterfall, a pink X against a backdrop of green and blue a wee triangle of orange at her centre. The aul camera shutter closed in my head, that was when I knew for certain what I was going to do and what direction my life was about to take and I defy anyone not to make the same choice.

Big Jim and others like him would always be out there, part of my past maybe but never far away. Yer man with the Loyalist tattoos turning up at the bar was like some aul spectre hanging over me. I had to get as far away as I could if I was ever going to put that world behind me.

It was simple in the end really. I just wanted to go on, make something of my life, go somewhere new and make a home, to love and protect this woman till her dying day, to raise a son maybe call him Mark and let him be the best man he could be.

I want to live, and I’ll never surrender.

The author would like to thank:

David Winter: Editor, supporter, moustache model.

Jane Novak: Publicist, supporter, sophistication model.

Michael Williams: Honest early draft reader, beard model.

Josephine Rowe: Friend, Josephine Rowe model.

James Bradley, Nick Earls, Adam Levin, Wells Tower, DBC Pierre: Writers, supporters, terrible role models.

Jemima: Kittytorial suggestions, cute fluffy model.

Eirian Chapman: Centre of Universe, catwalk model (pending).

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