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Authors: Homer Hickam

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BOOK: The Far Reaches
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“How about Sister Mary Kathleen?”

Bucknell gave the question some thought. “Quite honestly, I don't recall that she was there. She might have been. She was always such a little mouse, maybe I missed her. Anyway, the priests and nuns were praying incessantly, and I guess you might say they called up a miracle. An airplane flew over and dropped a single bomb in the harbor. This made Colonel Yoshu and his troops panic and run for the hills, leaving us unguarded. Funny thing is, I believe the bomb was accidentally dropped by a Japanese bomber. Anyhoo,
we got ourselves untied; then Spurlock, his two wives, and I slipped down to the harbor and thence aboard Spurlock's launch. Long story short, we ended up here. I made common cause with Chief Kalapa and set up shop—someone must run the empire's bureaucracy, after all. Carl and his girls now live on the northern shore of the island. After you've rested, I'll take you to visit. I think he'd enjoy meeting a fellow Yank.”

Josh absorbed the story, then asked, “What happened to the priests and nuns?”

“I begged them to come with us, but even with the offer of free booze, which, believe me, had to be a considerable attraction to Father O'Toole, they refused. The Mother Superior said Father Ballester was too injured to travel and, in any case, she and the others could not abandon the people of Ruka. In effect, they were signing their own death warrants, but I think they knew that.”

“So how was it…?” Josh began, then stopped his question when a shadow fell across the sand cartoon of the Far Reaches. “What is it, Ready?”

“Beg pardon, sir, but we got all the ordnance unloaded and I put the marines to guarding it. Should we build ourselves a hut or something?”

“A hut? What are you thinking, Bosun? We're only going to be here a couple of days at most. We'll sleep on the beach.”

Ready shrugged. “On the beach it is, sir. I'm certain the sand fleas will enjoy our company Sorry to interrupt.”

Josh shook his head at Ready's near-insubordination but let it pass. “Go away,” he told him, “and don't come back to talk to me about anything, unless the Japanese are attacking. Clear?”

“Very clear, sir.”

Ready left, and Bucknell said, “You were hard on that man, Captain.”

“Yes, I was, because he requires discipline. He is in love, you see, an unrequited love, and it has muddled his mind.”

“Unrequited love is a difficult burden,” Bucknell acknowledged. “Such is rare on this island, the women being too kind to allow it. If a man loves a woman, she will at least make certain he isn't sexually frustrated, even if she doesn't love him enough to marry him, a most civilized tradition, I must say. But back to cases. Captain, I should like to formally request that you reconsider your plan to abandon us.” He nodded toward Chief Kalapa. “I know the chief and I know his people. They will not go. This is their home and they would die if they had to leave. Nor will I go, for I have a duty to represent His Majesty's government here. Will you not stay and help defend us?”

“Me stay,” Chief Kalapa confirmed. “You stay along, Jahtalo. Fight Japonee.”

Josh was incredulous. “It would be past foolishness to even think about it. You see, there is a further consideration.” Then Josh told the diplomat and the chief about the message nailed to the cross. “Colonel Yoshu wants that nun, though I don't know why. He probably has no idea she headed to Tarawa and collected me up. He likely thinks she's been hiding on one island or another and he's been searching them, big and small. Tahila is surely in his sights. He's coming, and he'll likely kill everyone on Tahila when he does.”

Bucknell frowned. “But you brought rifles and machine guns with you. Why did you do that if you didn't plan to fight?”

“That was Sister Mary Kathleen's idea, not mine. If you are bound and determined to stay, I'll leave all that ordnance with you. My boys and I will just take what we need for the voyage.”

Bucknell sighed after a short ponder. “Your advice is sound, Captain. Chief Kalapa and I will discuss it.” He gave the chief the eye, nodding toward the door. “For now, duty calls us both. Please make yourself at home here in my office. We shall talk more later.”

Bucknell and the chief rose, gravely shook Josh's hand in turn, and went out the door. “You have a day to make up your mind, no more than two!” Josh called after them.

“We understand, old man,” Bucknell answered over his shoulder. Then he and the chief walked on down the common road, their heads close as they conversed.

Josh shrugged, told himself he'd done his best, and then, as invited, made himself at home.

He was still making himself at home an hour later, mainly by drinking a great deal of the Britisher's gin, when Sister Mary Kathleen found him. “A word, Captain?” she asked, then knew instantly by his crooked smile that he was inebriated.

“Sure, Sister,” Josh said. “How about a gin and tonic?”

“Faith, I am not an imbiber of alcoholic spirits.”

“Why not? Nothing in the Bible against it. Jesus drank wine. Even made some for his ma, best I recall.”

“Many men in my village were drunks,” she answered. “I chose to avoid the curse.”

“Oh, come on, Sister. A little booze can soften a long day.”

“The sun has only recently risen,” she pointed out. “Nay, Captain. I will not drink and I beg ye to stop.”

Josh laughed and refilled his tumbler with gin, neglecting the tonic. “What do you want?”

She crossed her arms and tapped her slippered foot. “You had the bosun and the marines put away the rifles and machine guns. I think they should be handed out to the people so they can be ready if Colonel Yoshu attacks.”

Josh lifted his eyebrows. “Give weapons to untrained islanders? I might as well throw them into the lagoon.”

“Then I ask ye to teach at least me fella boys how to use them.”

“Sister, when will you see the light? When Colonel Yoshu comes, which he will, he'll roll right over us.”

“No, ‘tis you who cannot see the light, Captain.” She puffed out an exasperated breath. “How can I make ye understand? If we put up any kind of defense, Colonel Yoshu will turn and run. I know this man. Why don't ye trust me?”

“Trust you? I don't even know who you are!”

She was startled. “What do ye mean? Ye know who I am.”

“I don't know that I do,” he answered, squinting at her, as if perhaps he could see into her mind, even though, in truth, his vision had become a bit blurred. “There are things left out about you. For instance, I have no clear idea how you spent your time on Ruka before your escape. It's also not clear to me how you escaped and who exactly your fella boys are and why they are so devoted to you. And, of course, I don't understand why Colonel Yoshu is so bound and determined to get you back.”

“This is neither the time nor place to talk about that,” she retorted. Josh laughed again, which made her wave her hand in front of her nose, so strong were the gin fumes.

“Well, that's fine, Sister. On the voyage back to Tarawa, you can tell me everything. I've pretty much convinced Mr. Bucknell and Chief Kalapa to gather up the people on this island and come along.” He drank up, then refilled the tumbler, thus emptying the bottle. “What do you think of that?”

“I think you've had enough gin,” Sister Mary Kathleen answered.

“Do you? Well, I shall take your opinion under advisement.” Then Josh tossed the gin down his throat and happily smacked his lips, island style. He lifted his eyebrows at her and grinned, though it was not a friendly grin, more a baring of his teeth.

She stared at him in disgust, then bit her lip and forced an expression of calm and outward humility. “I'll take me leave now,” she said.

Josh shrugged. “
Vaya con Dios,
Sister.”

“I usually do, Captain,” she snapped, then left.

Josh frowned after her. “God save me from all women!” he swore, then took another bottle of gin from the cabinet, unscrewed the cap, tossed it away, and discovered he was in a mind to get good and soused. He deserved it, after all, considering all he'd been through. The problem was gin had never been a friendly drink for him. He recalled hitting it a little hard in Alaska, in the little frontier town of Petersburg, and wandering around half out of his mind for two days. Also, if he got drunk, how would the bosun and the marines get along without his sure and certain leadership?
They'd be in one pohunky stew,
he concluded, and poured himself just one last drink and, soon thereafter, another.

32

It was nearly midnight before Sister Mary Kathleen sank to her knees in the little house that belonged to the two widows who had invited her to spend the night beneath their thatched roof. Both were asleep, snoring peacefully, and so she prayed silently for guidance, grace, strength, and, most of all, forgiveness, though her heart told her such was not possible. She crossed her-self at the end of her prayers, including in them even Josh Thurlow, the big lout, and kissed the medallion of her order and wiped the inevitable tear of regret and sadness that always came to her at the end of each day. For it was only then she allowed her thoughts to drift toward Ruka and the unbearable joy and disgrace that was there.
will find a way,
she swore, even as she accepted that for some days or weeks, Tahila would be her home.

After removing the corona, veil, and wimple of her habit, she placed them carefully aside and lay down on the large straw mat that served as a sleeping area for her and the two women. Lying there, staring into the darkness, she felt dirty, tired, and ugly and wished she had insisted on washing both her garments and her filthy body before taking to bed. But everyone in the village, it seemed, wanted her to visit, and no time had been allowed for anything else other than the sociable. She had found the homes of Tahila kept neat and clean, and the ladies of each were eager to show off their various treasures. This one had a Bible to show, though it was in Spanish, which no one in the village could read, and that one had fashioned artistic fired clay pots, which Sister Mary Kathleen admired too much, it seemed, as the woman had pressed on her several. Other women showed her their gardens and even their chickens, dogs, cats, and pigs. Sadly, none of them introduced her to their children, since they were considered too low to be brought forth
to a holy person. So she contented herself with sidelong glances at them, almost always rewarded by shy smiles. She so longed to swoop them up and hold them in her arms, but she resisted the urge and instead cooed over everything shown to her, all the while allowing her smiles to seep out to the boys and girls hiding in the shadows of their houses or peeping out from behind trees and bushes.

The evening had brought a meal with Chief Kalapa and his several wives. It was a sumptuous meal of rice and yams and chunks of boiled chicken and fish. She had eaten appreciatively, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then belched delicately, all in the island style, and pronounced everything more than satisfactory.

Although the chief started to speak to her in pidgin, she apprised him of her knowledge of the dialect, and he inclined his head, accepting her offer to speak in his language. “I understand Captain Thurlow has convinced you to leave Tahila,” she said.

“That is not true,” he answered. “Mr. Bucknell and I heard the captain out, but we are still thinking the best course.”

“I am pleased to hear it. If you agree, I should like to stay here.”

“Nango and the Ruka fella boys are welcome, but it is my understanding you are coveted by the Japanese colonel. Perhaps it would be better for Tahila if you went elsewhere.”

“I have nowhere else to go.”

“You could go back to Tarawa with Captain Thurlow.”

“I cannot, sor. I must find a way to force the Japanese to leave Ruka.” “Why?”

“The people there suffer terribly under their rule.”

“I am certain that is true. Our fishermen encounter Ruka fishermen. They say their families are kept hostage so they will bring fish back to the Japonee. They say many, many have been killed. They say they are treated as slaves.” Chief Kalapa thought for a while, then said, “Still, I confess I do not entirely understand your position. Why have you taken such a responsibility upon yourself? Could it be, like most Europeans, you look upon us as your children and therefore you must save us?”

“ Tisn't that! I just think …” She hesitated before saying, “I regret much of what we Europeans have brought to yer islands. Except the word of God, of course.”

The chief nodded, noticing that she had changed the subject, then tossed a chicken bone over his shoulder and licked his fingers. “Well, Sister,
the first white men who came here brought both good and bad. I think we were ripe for change, anyway. It didn't take long before we wanted to be as much like them as we could.”

“You thought their way of life was best?”

“Best? What is best? We knew no other way than our own, that's all. When we found ourselves rubbing up against a different people, we were bound to change. Once, we had an American woman stay with us for a year. She was a student, she said, and we were her teachers. But if we were her teachers, why did she keep asking us things we had not put into words before or did not know? Where did your people come from? How do you travel without maps? Why do you build your boats this way? Why do you have sex without shame? She bedeviled us with her incessant and rude questions about things we had always taken for granted. She forced us to put into words these things and made our most cherished customs seem silly. At the end of her year, we were happy to see her leave, but it was too late. She had already changed us by making us answer her questions.”

Chief Kalapa thought a bit more, then added slyly, “You Europeans reject our religion as fairy tales but say Christianity is all true. This is strange, be-cause Christianity does not match most of your thinking. It is an ancient religion, filled with impossible things such as men raised from the dead, Jesus walking on water, the lame throwing away their crutches, and God Himself plotting the terrible torture and death of His own son. It does not square with your otherwise logical beliefs. Can you explain this?”

BOOK: The Far Reaches
2.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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