The World Duology (World Odyssey / Fiji: A Novel) (55 page)

24

W
hile Nathan and Susannah, and most of the villagers, were sleeping, Selaima crept out of the bure she shared with the other female slaves and walked quickly toward the nearby rainforest. She carried the small flax bag that was never far from her side.

Her way was conveniently lit by a full moon. She was thankful for it as the powerful curse she intended to place on the white woman demanded there be a full moon.

Selaima suddenly stopped, as if she’d forgotten something, and doubled back to Nathan’s bure. Pausing in the bure’s open doorway, she tiptoed inside.

In the moonlight, she saw that Nathan and Susannah were fast asleep in each other’s arms. Staring at the two lovers, she realized she’d never experienced such deep and conflicting emotions: her love for Nathan was so powerful she felt as though she was already in the Afterlife’s paradise, while her hatred for Susannah knew no bounds.

More convinced than ever that what she was about to do was justifiable, she backed out of the bure and once again struck off toward the forest. After quickly locating the track she knew would lead her to her cave, she began jogging, so keen was she to execute her plan.

# 

On her arrival at the cave, Selaima had found the full moon’s position was perfect: it was almost directly above the cave. Moonlight flooded in through the small opening in the roof, illuminating her as she stood naked by the fire she’d lit moments earlier.

Selaima had already sprinkled the special herbs and potions she carried in her bag onto the fire, and the flames were leaping skyward. The resulting aromas had quickly taken effect and she was already in a trance. She began dancing and her sensuous body was soon covered in perspiration.

Chanting, she called on her Bauan ancestors to protect her from the dark spirits she planned to summon. She’d neglected to do that last time she’d summoned the dark forces and the memory of that harrowing experience was still with her. She wanted to have allies present this time around.

The Bauan ancestors appeared to her as bright shadows. These shadows were so
bright, they almost blinded her, making identification possible. However, Selaima was certain they included her mother and her mother’s mother—the two people she’d been closest to before illness had taken them from her.

When she was satisfied her spiritual allies were present, Selaima summoned the darker spirits. A fluttering sound alerted her to their presence. As always, they were invisible to her until she closed her eyes.
When she did so, the familiar bat-like creatures immediately appeared to her—moving too fast to see clearly. On this occasion their movements were so fast they seemed violent. It was as if they sensed Selaima was about to place a dreadful curse on someone.

Selaima worked herself into a heightened state, grunting and frothing at the mouth as usual. The feeling of faintness that always descended on her about now was strangely absent on this occasion. Selaima was feeling stronger and more in command than ever before.

Screaming in a voice that wasn’t hers, she shouted, “Dark Spirits, I command you to kill the white woman who has come between me and Nathan Johnson!” The spirits were now moving so rapidly they came in and out of Selaima’s vision. “Let her be visited by a fatal illness this very night,” she continued, “and let her not see another sunrise!”

The feeling of faintness that had held off now arrived with a vengeance. This didn’t worry Selaima. She’d placed her curse and the dark spirits had listened. She happily gave in to the feeling and collapsed beside the fire.

# 

While Selaima lay unconscious in the cave, Nathan and Susannah were making love
for the third or maybe fourth time that night: they’d lost count. Their lovemaking merged into one long, wonderful experience that neither wanted to end.

They came in each other’s arms and lay there, smiling at each other. In the moonlight, they could just make out the expression on the other’s face.

“Where have you been all my life, Nathan Johnson?” Susannah asked.

“I could ask the same about you.”

“I asked first.”

“Well, I—”

Susannah suddenly began coughing. “Sorry. Carry on.”

Before Nathan could continue, Susannah resumed coughing. This time she couldn’t stop.

“Are you okay?” Nathan asked, concerned.

Susannah nodded as the coughing gradually subsided. However, she suddenly had difficulty breathing. “I can’t breathe!” she gasped, sitting up.

More concerned than ever, Nathan placed his arm around her. “What’s wrong?”

Susannah shook her head. “I don’t know!” She was becoming more frightened as her airways constricted. Soon, she
was having to fight for each breath.

Realizing something was badly
wrong, Nathan picked her up in her arms and carried her outside. “Inoki! Inoki!” he shouted as he carried her toward the old healer’s bure. In the absence of modern medical practitioners, Inoki was the first person Nathan thought of. Looking at Susannah, he was alarmed to see she’d lost consciousness. “Susannah!”

Alerted by the shouting, villagers emerged from their bures to see what the problem was. Worried out of his mind, Nathan barged into Inoki just as the old man was emerging from his bure. Inoki took one look at Susannah and motioned to Nathan to bring her inside. Concerned villagers followed them into the bure.

Inside, Nathan lay Susannah down on the same bed mat he’d occupied while Inoki had nursed him just a few weeks earlier. Looking at Susannah, he was alarmed to see she was still unconscious. “Susannah!” he cried out.

Inoki immediately went to work, chanting while orally administering herbs and potions to his unconscious patient. Nathan instinctively knew the healer was wasting his time, but he had no answer for Susannah’s condition so he sat by helplessly and watched.

# 

Despite his best efforts, Inoki realized Susannah wasn’t responding. If anything, her condition was deteriorating. Ignoring the desperate looks being directed his way by Nathan, Inoki studied Susannah’s face. He began to suspect foul play. The healer sensed his patient had
fallen prey to evil spirits.

Inoki immediately thought of Selaima. Turning to one of the women in attendance, he ordered her to fetch the slave girl. The woman hurried out of the bure and returned moments later to advise Inoki the girl was not in the slaves’ quarters.

This news confirmed Inoki’s suspicions. Speaking quickly to the same woman, he gathered up some herbs and potions then hurried from the bure, leaving a bemused Nathan behind. Nathan went to follow when the woman restrained him.

“Inoki say you stay here,” the woman said in faltering English.

“Where’d he go?” an anxious Nathan asked.

“He
go to help missionary woman.”

More confused than ever, Nathan checked Susannah’s pulse. It was so weak he could hardly detect it. A feeling of dread came over him.

Dear God, don’t let her die!

Outside, Inoki headed straight for the rainforest. He’d long suspected the Bauan slave girl was evil and was convinced she’d placed a curse on the white woman. Inoki had seen the
way Selaima looked at Susannah. And he’d seen how she lusted after Nathan.

Inoki quickly found the track he knew led to the cave Selaima frequented. He knew because he’d found the cave since his earlier unsuccessful search. Not only that, but he’d secretly observed the slave girl communicating with the spirits. He hadn’t confronted her because he feared her powers. Now, with the white woman’s life in the balance, he felt he had no choice.

In no time, he reached the cave. Entering it stealthily via its narrow opening, he found Selaima dancing naked. She was illuminated by a beam of moonlight that pierced the darkness courtesy of the small opening in the cave roof. Inoki immediately saw that Selaima was performing a meke ni vula, or dance to the moon. This confirmed his fears: the dance was a traditional expression of thanks to the spirits for answering a wish for someone to die.

Steeling himself for the showdown he knew would follow, the old healer swallowed a potion and, holding the herbs he’d brought, approached Selaima from behind.

Although her back was to Inoki, she knew someone was there and she knew who it was. “Stay back, old man!” she warned.

Shaken but not deterred, Inoki kept shuffling forward. At the same time, he began chanting, calling on the warrior ancestors of the Qopa to protect him.

Enraged, Selaima spun around to face the old man. She was still frothing at the mouth and her eyes had turned up so that only their whites were visible. The slave girl called on the dark spirits to overcome the spiritual forces that Inoki had summoned.

Inoki’s eardrums were assaulted by ghoulish noises that were so loud they were deafening, yet he couldn’t see what was making the noise. He closed his eyes and immediately saw the cause: the spirits were at war. The shadowy creatures were moving so fast, he couldn’t even identify their individual shapes. However, he could distinguish between good and evil: his spiritual allies were golden in color and as bright as the golden tabua
Rambuka had stolen from the village, while the dark spirits opposing them were grotesque and bat-like.

Despite Inoki’s fears, the forces of good prevailed, overpowering the dark spirits. All but one of the opposing spirits were destroyed; one escaped by entering and possessing Selaima.

Snapping out of her trance, the slave girl immediately knew what fate awaited her. Her former bravado was replaced by terror. “Inoki, wise healer, cast out the dark spirit from me!” she pleaded, throwing herself at the old man’s feet.

Selaima was aware that, as the person who had been possessed, she did not have the power to exorcize the dark spirit from her soul. Only Inoki had that power.

Inoki knew it, too. He looked at her knowingly for a while before turning his back on her and shuffling out of the cave. As he went, he ignored Selaima’s pleas for help.

# 

As Inoki retraced his steps to the village, Nathan was beside himself with worry over Susannah. Her pulse was hardly detectable now and he was convinced she was near death. “Where’s Inoki?” he asked no one in particular.

The Qopa women with him looked at each other and shrugged. They were wondering the same thing.

Nathan was debating whether to go and look for Inoki when Susannah suddenly opened her eyes.

“Susannah!” Nathan gasped. He reached out and touched her face tenderly, unsure whether to laugh or cry.

Susannah managed a smile. “Where am I?” she asked weakly.

Laughing, Nathan hugged her. “You’re in Inoki’s hut.”

At the mention of his name, Inoki himself appeared in the doorway. He beamed when he saw Susannah.

Nathan saw the pleasure on the old healer’s face, but he also noted Inoki didn’t appear overly surprised to see Susannah back in the land of the living. He suspected him of having something to do with Susannah’s recovery, but knew he’d probably never know for sure.

While Nathan and the others celebrated Susannah’s recovery, Selaima was at that very moment approaching the cliff edge on the headland beyond the village. She began chanting as she reached the edge. The voice coming from her mouth was not hers. It was harsh and vulgar and sounded more male than female. Selaima was still chanting as she fell toward the rocks below.

25

I
n the village meeting house next day, headman Kamisese sat cross-legged drinking kava with other matagali. Kamisese had taken charge since the loss of Joeli. All the elders deferred to him.

There was a hum of conversation as the Qopa discussed the weather, the fishing, the achievements of their grandchildren, and other things that were important to them.

Listening in to the various conversations, Kamisese marveled at how easily men could forget about death and destruction and concern themselves about such mundane things as whether the sun was shining or the fish were biting.

Conversation momentarily ceased when Nathan suddenly entered the meeting house. Kamisese motioned to him to sit next to him. The American willingly obliged.

Nathan was feeling deeply contented. The woman he loved more than anyone else or anything had been brought back to him from the dead; he now knew what he wanted to do with his life—and, more importantly, who he wanted to share the rest of his life with.

Kamisese noted Nathan carried an object wrapped in cloth. His heart skipped a beat. He wondered if the object was the golden tabua Rambuka had stolen from the village. Kamisese had wanted to ask Nathan if Joeli had recovered the sacred whale’s tooth, but he dared not: to have asked and been told Joeli had failed in his quest would have been to invite disaster on the golden tabua’s rightful owners. He could only hope Nathan would tell him in his own time.

A slave boy appeared and handed Nathan a drinking bowl filled with kava. The American gravely clapped his hands together three times. He took the bowl, drank the kava, and clapped again. Kamisese and the other matagali looked on, impressed by how quickly he had picked up their customs.

A moment later they were even more impressed when Nathan unfolded the cloth he was holding and proudly displayed the golden tabua Joeli had given him. He handed it to an astounded Kamisese, who snatched it from him in disbelief.

“The golden tabua!” Kamisese shouted triumphantly, holding the sacred whale’s tooth above his head.

The other matagali began chanting praises to their gods when they realized what Kamisese was holding. Scarcely able to believe their most precious possession had been returned to them, they couldn’t contain themselves.

When the celebrations died down, a delighted Kamisese and the other matagali fired questions at Nathan in Fijian. They demanded to know how he had come by the golden tabua. Nathan tried to explain, but of course the language barrier prevented this.

The blast of a lookout’s conch, or seashell horn, outside warned of the approach of visitors. It was quickly followed by shouts of alarm from the villagers. Nathan and the others hurried outside in time to see the scar-faced Lemeki and his Mamanucan warriors emerging from the rainforest. The Qopa relaxed when they recognized the visitors.

To demonstrate he came in peace, Lemeki immediately placed his club on the ground and motioned to his warriors to do the same. They, too, lay down their weapons.

Kamisese walked forward to greet them. He placed his hand on Lemeki’s shoulder in a gesture of friendship. Lemeki reciprocated in kind. “I see you, great Lemeki,” Kamisese said.

“I see you, Kamisese, worthy headman,” Lemeki responded. “I have buried the bodies of your great Qopa warriors. They died bravely in the Land of Red Rain.”

Kamisese nodded gravely. He said, “The spirits will be well pleased you farewelled your brothers.” He then led Lemeki and his warriors back to the meeting house.

As he followed Kamisese, Lemeki looked around him. His eyes settled on Nathan. The Mamanucan chief inclined his head briefly toward the American. Nathan knew immediately he’d kept his word and given Jack a fitting burial.

# 

Later, the meeting house was overflowing with villagers and their Mamanucan guests as they celebrated the return of the golden tabua with an impromptu feast. The sacred possession now occupied pride of place on the meeting house wall. Kamisese and the other matagali kept touching it. They couldn’t help themselves, so relieved were they to see it back where it rightfully belonged.

Several Mamanucans were busy courting Qopa women who had lost their men in the recent hostilities. The women appeared receptive to the visitors’ advances. Kamisese’s wise old eyes surveyed the developing intertribal relationships with interest.

Nathan and Susannah were also in attendance. Susannah was a picture of health after her near-fatal experience.

Kamisese’s gaze settled on the young white couple who were smiling at each other as they ate in silence. The two lovers sat close together, their knees and shoulders touching, and were clearly a couple now.

The elder nodded to himself knowingly. Kamisese pushed himself to his feet as fast as his arthritic knees would allow and approached the couple, indicating to them they should follow him outside. He led them down to the beach and stopped alongside three canoes that were being watched over by a toothless matagali who stood guard over them. The old man was armed with one of the muskets Nathan had supplied.

Nathan noticed the canoes were laden down with something that was hidden beneath pandanus mats. Kamisese motioned to the American to inspect the contents of the nearest canoe.

Lifting the mat from the bow of the canoe, Nathan was stunned to see the craft was full of dried sea slugs. “Beche-de-mer,” he murmured. A huge smile crossed his face.

Kamisese was delighted by the young man’s reaction. Using Susannah to translate, he told Nathan that Joeli’s last instructions to him had been to fill two canoes with the precious sea slugs in return for the muskets. Because Nathan had returned the golden tabua safely, Kamisese had taken it upon himself to throw in the extra canoe-load.

Nathan was delighted to hear this. With Joeli and his warriors gone, he’d given up on ever being recompensed for his muskets. Now, he’d been more than compensated. The profits from this would set him up nicely. He looked at Susannah and smiled. She could see he was pleased.

“It is good?” she asked.

“It is good.” He would tell her later the ramifications of the villagers’ generosity. This was not the time. Right now, his delight was tempered by the sadness at having lost so many friends and by Susannah’s loss. Material success somehow seemed unimportant now, but at the same time he wasn’t going to turn his back on it.

Nathan had never been into self-analysis, but he realized he’d grown over the past few weeks. Things that not so long ago had meant everything to him—like money and riches—suddenly weren’t so important.

I’ve changed!

The realization hit him like a lightning bolt. Suddenly, family and loved ones were all that mattered to him.

Susannah could see a change in him, too—and she liked it. She put her arms around Nathan’s neck, pulled his head down toward hers, and kissed him. Kamisese and the toothless matagali looked on, smiling.