Island's End (13 page)

T
he crowd parts to let Lah-ame through. He looks as close to rage as I have ever seen him. Lah-ame has never punished anyone before, but sensing his anger, I fear what he might do to the boys.

I move to Tawai’s side and slap my hands over his mouth. “Be quiet, Tawai, please.”

Lah-ame grips Ashu’s chin and turns my brother’s face up. “Look at me,” he commands. He blows his breath across Ashu’s cheeks, but his breath is fierce as a storm wind. Ashu’s eyes roll from side to side, unable to hold Lah-ame’s gaze.

“Have you anything to say, Ashu?” Lah-ame asks.

I see Ashu’s mouth open slightly but he makes no sound.

Lah-ame’s hands move down Ashu’s neck and squeeze tight. For an instant, Lah-ame’s fingernails appear to me like an eagle’s talons, ready to pierce Ashu’s skin and rip him apart. But all Lah-ame does is pull Ashu’s necklace up over his head.

“A boy who is so disrespectful of his ancestors’ ways does not deserve to wear their bones around his neck,” Lah-ame thunders. As the tribe watches in shock, Lah-ame starts snapping the bones of Ashu’s chauga-ta in half. Inside my mind, I hear a terrible scream—as though the spirits of our ancestors are crying because of Ashu.

Something inside Ashu seems to break at the sound of the bones cracking. His shoulders fold inward and I see him hunch forward, hugging his chest tightly, as though it hurts.

Lah-ame flings the broken necklace at my brother. “I return your chauga-ta with four bones broken. If you ever dare behave this way again, I will throw it into the ocean, along with your bows and spears and arrows.”

Ashu catches his chauga-ta with shaking fingers. “I am sorry, Lah-ame,” he murmurs.

“Louder,” Lah-ame says. “What for?”

Ashu’s head drops to his chest. “For dishonoring the spirits of our ancestors.”

“Now, break the strangers’ fire twigs and throw them into the waves.”

Without even glancing in my direction, Lah-ame walks away. All around me, I hear sighs of relief, like a wind blowing through the leaves of a great tree. The crowd breaks up into little groups and most people start wandering back into the jungle or the village, but I stay on the beach with Mimi and my brothers, worried that Lah-ame is angry with me too, for not preventing my brothers from using the fire twigs.

Ashu and his friends collect the boxes of sticks and throw them into the water as Lah-ame commanded. After they are done, Mimi pulls Ashu toward me and places our hands against one another, forcing our palms to touch. “No more argument, children,” she says.

Ashu grunts something, but his eyes refuse to meet mine.

I struggle to find words of peacemaking. “When we were children, our quarrels washed away as quickly as footprints on the beach. Can we not let that happen again?”

“Go away,” he mutters and stalks off down the beach.

Mimi strokes my cheek. “I am sorry, Uido. Your brother has an angry spirit.”

Tawai approaches Mimi. “I caught a tarcal-ta this morning. Do you want to see it?” Already he seems to have forgotten what just happened. Mimi gives me a hug and follows Tawai to his fish.

I look around the beach, hoping Danna is waiting for me. But before I spot him anywhere, I overhear Natalang telling one of her sisters, “I know it was wrong, but is Ashu not brave? He is the only one who was not afraid of the strangers’ magic!”

Her words feel like thorns piercing my ear. Hurt by her and Tawai and Ashu, I run as fast as I can, away from them, away from our village, away from the tribe and into the jungle.

I
go deeper and deeper into the jungle. Confused thoughts whirl like storm clouds in my head. How quickly I agreed to become Lah-ame’s apprentice, not knowing the training would push Tawai and Natalang so far away. The spirits seem to have forsaken me too—forgetting to send a warning dream before the strangers’ arrival this morning. Even Lah-ame ignored me just now. But I am not sure what more I should have done to control my brothers’ behavior.

I hear footsteps close behind and glance back to see Danna’s stocky frame gaining on mine. “Uido!” he calls out. “Is something wrong?”

We sit together on a fallen tree trunk. I lean my head against his shoulder.

“Sometimes I wish I had never started the training. How will I ever lead our people if I cannot even be friends with my own brother?”

Danna encircles my waist with an arm. His touch is calming. “Ashu and his friends left the beach saying they were going hunting and would not be back for a few days. I think they are too ashamed to face the tribe—at least for the moment.”

“But Danna, Ashu will be back sooner or later. And so long as he is part of the tribe, he will always fight me.”

“Many En-ge want to see you become oko-jumu, Uido. I am not the only one who supports you.”

I sigh. “Sometimes I am not sure I will ever be able to protect the tribe from the strangers as well as Lah-ame does. To tell the truth, I am curious about Ragavan’s ways myself. If it was not for that, maybe I would have acted faster today.”

“Even Lah-ame must have had trouble keeping the tribe safe when he was young,” Danna says. “I am sure the elders remember his early mistakes. And anyway, I sense a change in you already. Your body looks as strong as a leader’s.”

“Did you like the old Uido better, Danna?”

“I like Uido,” he says simply, placing my hand on his chest. The steady thud of his heart soothes me. “Your spirit may travel too fast for me to keep up, but I will always be here, waiting, every time you return from the Otherworld.”

In the sunlight that drizzles like honey onto Danna’s shoulders, he looks more beautiful than ever. We bend toward one another. My lips wander across his smooth cheeks and chin. We kiss once, twice, four times.

After a while, Danna breaks away, murmuring, “I found a new beehive. Shall we collect some honey?”

“But we have not been chewing the
tonh-je
leaves,” I say. “The bees will sting me. Would you like me better with a swollen face?”

“I would never let anything bite you. I have tonh-je leaves.” He reaches into the bag that hangs from his quiver, pulls out a few tonh-je leaves, starts chewing on one and pushes a few into my mouth. I crush a handful of leaves and smear them over him. With the tips of his fingers, he works the tonh-je juice into my skin. His touch feels as soft as the stroke of a butterfly’s wings.

“Why are you trembling?” Danna asks. “What is wrong now?”

“It is just—our friendship is changing. Lah-ame says to an oko-jumu the tribe must always come first. I think that is why he never took a woman. But I cannot imagine being alone and spending every rainy season away from the tribe like he does.”

“Imagine being married, then, like the women oko-jumu before you.” Danna turns my face to his and blows gently across it. His breath, thick with the tonh-je scent, makes me feel light-headed and my concerns seem to drip away like honey from a comb.

Danna pulls me to my feet and we walk to the bee colony.

“Look.” Danna points at a beehive that hangs halfway up the tree. “Wait here while I get it?”

“I climb as well as you,” I tell him.

He grins. “All right. Ready?”

With the help of the thick vine encircling its trunk, we pull ourselves up. Our hands press against the bark and our toes find footholds in the rough trunk. Soon we are near the hive.

We blow into the air. The bees scent the tonh-je and grow drowsy. They settle on our bodies, droning
mmbbzzz, mmbbzzz
. Far below us, in the midday light, the jungle floor is mottled with shadows like a moth’s wing.

“Biliku-waye, Pulug-ame, spirits of the Otherworld, thank you for showing us this food.” Danna works until the comb comes away in his hands. We scramble down.

“I have never plucked a hive so easily. Not stung once.” Danna pierces the comb. With a sticky forefinger, he teases my lips apart. I lick his finger, then let my tongue slide down its honey-sweet length. Cool air rushes into my throat and tickles me. I break off a tiny piece of comb and hold it to his mouth. He nibbles the edge and slurps at the thick liquid that dribbles out.

We break off other bits of the comb, suck them dry and spit out the wax. But we save most of it to share with the others. While we linger beneath the tree, the sky darkens as though it were evening instead of just past midday. A sudden downpour begins. I stare at the lightning Biliku-waye draws overhead by scratching lines in the sky with her pearl shell.

“What does Biliku-waye say?” Danna asks.

Thunder breaks and I wait for my spirit to sense an image after the next flash of light, just the way Lah-ame taught me. As the lines of white tear apart the gray clouds above, I see a picture of evil white spirits reaching out to capture one of us with their skeleton-thin fingers.

“Illness,” I whisper, shuddering. “The lau are searching to catch someone’s spirit.”

Thunder booms again, like a drum beating out an alarm. We race back to the village.

T
he rain stops as we enter the clearing. But not one happy face greets us.

People are clustered in front of Lah-ame’s hut: elders, children, a few men, and all the women. Nobody says a word as Danna and I push through to the center of the group. There, I see Lah-ame kneeling on the ground, bending over Tawai.

My little brother’s eyelids are half closed. He shivers feverishly. My parents sit beside him, leaning against one another.

I drop the honeycomb and rush to Lah-ame’s side. He strokes Tawai’s body with an eagle feather—trying to find the lau that has captured my brother’s spirit.

I crouch down beside Lah-ame. “What is wrong with my brother?”

“The strangers carried a disease spirit to our island. It has leaped into Tawai and made him ill.” Lah-ame shakes his head.

“How can I help?”

“We need a cooling paste,” he says.

I enter Lah-ame’s hut, my mind so full of worry that for an instant I cannot remember how to make the medicine. But then I find his store of heartseed vine. Praying to the plant’s spirit to help Tawai recover soon, I grind the leaves into a paste and rush outside again.

Lah-ame dips his hand into the paste and spreads it on my brother’s forehead. I see Tawai’s temples throbbing. “Go, lau, go. Go out of this body,” Lah-ame chants.

But the lau does not answer his call. Tawai groans, “My body hurts.”

“Uido, bring a drink to cure pain,” Lah-ame says. I return to his hut, where I squeeze coral berries into a juice to soothe body ache. Lah-ame pours it down Tawai’s throat.

But Tawai’s body will not take the medicine. A few moments after it passes his lips, we watch him vomit it back out.

Lah-ame looks up at the crowd. “Let all leave but Tawai’s family,” he says. “The lau inside him is a greedy one. It may catch anyone who comes too near.”

An anxious murmur spreads through the crowd and slowly people begin to leave.

Danna lingers at my side. “I will stay with you,” he says.

“No,” I whisper to Danna, thinking I could not bear it if the lau caught his spirit too. He takes my hand, but I pull away. “Lah-ame knows best,” I tell him. “Do what he says, Danna, please.”

“Shall I look for Ashu?” Danna asks. “He only left this morning. He cannot be that far away yet.”

“Tawai will get better before Ashu returns from his hunt. There is no need for Ashu to hurry back.” I speak with a confidence I do not feel.

Danna lets my hand drop. He blows gently on my cheeks and walks away.

Kara carries Tawai into Lah-ame’s hut and I follow. He lays Tawai down on a reed mat and then sits beside Mimi.

Throughout the rest of that long day, Tawai worsens. He coughs up everything except fresh water from Lah-ame’s nautilus shell vessel. As evening approaches, he no longer tries to speak, and his silence frightens me more than hearing him moan. He does not respond even to Mimi’s touch. Though his body is burning hot, he shivers like a spiderweb caught in a storm.