Chapter 4

ELENA MARQUEZ DID MOST of the digging, while I hauled stones to line the salt pits. Nursing her broken arm, Helen Jacobs sat by, watching. As young girls will, they practically ignored me, put me beyond the pale of their conversation. I was too old. "Does it hurt, Helen."

"A little bit."

"Don't try to dig, if it hurts. I-we-don't mind. Mrs. Curtis and me."

Helen said: "I wish-I wish we were back in Japan."

Elena straightened up, arching her back. The movement threw her mature breasts into full relief. "Me, too. Japan was real wild, wasn't it, with nobody checking up?"

Helen nodded. "And how. All those silly little Japanese policemen afraid to say anything and-"

"The clubs, the Teen Clubs-"

"Boy, if they only knew what went on in those clubs-"

"Yeah."

They were both quiet for awhile, remembering the country where no restrictions had been placed upon them, where GI money could, and did, buy anything and everything; where nobody asked them how old they were.

"Helen," Elena said thoughtfully. "What do you think that Zell will do?"

The blonde eased her broken arm with the other hand. "What do you mean?"

"I mean after he's tired of sleeping with that Joy Santee."

Helen reddened. "I'm sure I don't know."

"Oh, come on now. You're not that square. You know he'll look around for somebody else. Who do you think he'll pick next time?"

Helen glanced at me, considered for a moment, then wiped my presence away. She didn't answer directly. "I wonder," she said, "what the colonel would say, if he could hear us talking like this. The colonel-that's what I always called my father. Anything else wouldn't have seemed right; he was that kind of man. I wonder if the colonel and mother are still alive, back in Yokohama?"

"You ought to forget that," Elena said. "Worrying, I mean. It won't help."

Helen shifted her arm to a more comfortable position. "If only they hadn't insisted on sending me Stateside to school. I'd be with them now. With mother and the colonel. He's strong, the colonel."

Elena scooped sand for a moment, then said: "But your father isn't here. Nobody is, nobody who can protect you-or me. The only men on this island are the sick, skinny one and the mean one-Zell. We have to think about them, Helen. They're all we have."

Helen frowned. "I suppose so. I-I wonder what it will be like-having a man."

"You're kidding," Elena said.

"No-no, I'm not. I mean, well-in Japan, I tried. Ken was the son of an artillery major, and cute. But the colonel always seemed to be right there, right behind me, even when he was miles and miles away. I-I just couldn't. Ken-Ken finally got angry and left."

"Then you're a virgin," Elena said, wonderingly. "Yes. Maybe-maybe Zell will leave me alone, if he knows that."

Elena laughed, a laugh too old, too wise for her years. "Don't bet on it. A lot of men go for that-old men. But get this straight-if Zell wants you, and he probably will-there's nothing you, or the colonel, or anybody else can do about it."

"I-I guess so," Helen whispered.

I wanted to comfort her, but the words would have been lies. Elena Marquez was right. There was nothing any of us could do, if Zell chose this young, untouched girl as his next mistress.

"Let's see," Elena mused. "Maybe he'll go for that colored girl, or maybe even for Mr. Curtis here. I think they've got the nicest shapes-for older women, that is. You've got the prettiest young shape, Helen, and mine's not bad, either."

Helen looked away from the Latin sensuousness of the other girl. "Do you think he'll really be interested in us-in girls young as us?"

Elena laughed again. "Sure he will. Don't let them kid you, a lot of men are interested in us. Only the cops and MPs won't let old guys play around. But there aren't any cops here, so that makes everything okay. You watch; Zell will be coming after us pretty soon."

Helen was silent, thinking. Elena went on: "I've got nice legs. Yours are longer, but mine are rounder. It'll be different, having a real man instead of a kid. I'm kind of anxious to find out how different. I'll tell youI'm no virgin, but I'm no old hooker, either. I haven't had much experience myself-just twice. Once with a fella' at the Teen Club in Tokyo. He wasn't much, because he was about as scared as I was. And once with a boy in Yokohama. He knew a little more, but he was too excited. You know-too quick."

Helen reddened again, and Elena said: "That's right, I forgot. You don't know. But you'll find out, honey. We'd both better hope Zell isn't too-rough. I've heard rough men can hurt a woman, sometime."

Helen shivered. "How-how about the other one? How about Danny? Maybe he'll be gentle, if he's the first. After-after him, it won't matter so much if Zell is rough. That's what I heard, anyway."

Elena stood up, stretching. Her firm young body outlined itself against the thin dress. "Him? Don't make me laugh, honey. Zell won't let him get within ten feet of us. Besides, he's a drunk, and drunks are no good in bed, they say. But he is kind of poetic looking, isn't he?"

She arched an eyebrow at me. "But," she said, "it looks like Mrs. Curtis has latched onto Danny, anyway, That right, Mrs. Curtis?"

I opened my fingers to dribble small rocks into the hole in the sand. "Elena, you're a damned fool. You haven't sense enough to be frightened."

She put both hands on her svelte hips. "Frightened? Of what? I'm not scared, Mrs. Curtis-I'm anxious."

"I'm scared," Helen admitted. "I wish I was home."

"Not me," Elena cut in. "At home, I'm a kid. I can't do things I want to do, because they say I'm not old enough. Well-here I'm old enough, and I'll prove I'm just as much woman as you, Mrs. Curtis-you, or anyone else."

I looked at their young faces, at the pale one, at the rebellious one. "I hope you don't have to prove anything," I said, and left them to find Ella.

She was digging in the sand up the beach, poking a pointed stick into an artificial-looking heap of sand. "Hi," she said. "The big boss assigned me to the turtle egg detail. He said turtles come up here and lay eggs in sand piles like this."

I made a face. "Turtle eggs? But I suppose anything will seem good to eat, after a while."

"Hey!" Ella said. "Maybe I've struck oil, or yolks. Are these eggs?"

I kneeled to touch one cautious fingertip to the things she had uncovered. "I think so-but they have skin instead of shells."

Ella smiled. "Whatever they are, there's plenty of them. We'll bring them back."

"Okay-here, I'll get them."

"No, you hold the sack. I'm not afraid of them."

"But I don't mind-"

Her smile widened. "Sure you do, but that's okay. Some people don't like to touch certain things. I'm not afraid of much, just centipedes. We call them 'thousand-legs' back home, and they can make you sick."

"I know," I said. "One stung me once."

Ella paused, her hands full of the leathery marbles. "Are you from the South?"

"California, originally. Many places after that. The centipede stung me in Panama."

"Oh, you're Army then."

"I was; my husband's dead."

"I'm sorry. In the crash?"

"Before, in Japan-in a stupid, unnecessary accident. It seems so long ago. If the plane hadn't crashed, it wouldn't be so long ago. Now everything seems different; new, sort of."

Ella dusted sand off her slightly pink palms. "New, maybe, but not different."

I pulled the mouth of the sack together. "How do you mean?"

"There's still the strong and the weak; there's still social and racial levels. Didn't you notice the Japanese move together?"

I frowned. "Isn't that natural?"

"Is it? Or is it because kind seeks kind, for protection?"

I touched the girl's arm. "I think I understand, but it will be different here. We must work together, think of each other, for our own individual good. I don't think the shape of eyes or the color of skin will have much importance here."

Ella turned away, thrusting her long stick into the sand-crowding bushes. "Maybe at first it won't matter, while everybody's so afraid, while we need each other for survival. But later, when this lopsided society of self-supporting, the changes will come. Many people need someone to feel inferior, someone to be above. Any minority will be inferior; the Japanese will be, because the Caucasions outnumber them. In turn, they'll be superior to me-because I'm alone."

"Oh, no," I said. "Ella, you're not alone, at all-no more than Danny is alone because he's different from the rest of us."

"Not really different; he's sick, and being sick doesn't change anything. He's an alcoholic now, because he still has whiskey. When there's no more whiskey, he'll be the same as the rest of you."

I shook my head. "Not unless we help him. Whiskey doesn't cause the illness; it's the other way around. He lacks something."

Ella suddenly lifted her stick and brought it down with a solid thump upon something that was trying to scuttle away. "Got him! Look, a big crab. I didn't know crabs lived on land."

"In this part of the world, some do. I hope he's good to eat."

"He'll be good to eat," Ella said, and using her stick as a scoop, raised the still-kicking crab over the bag and dropped it in. "See? The crab was weak and I was strong, so he got smashed. Just the way any of us will be smashed if we try to stand up against Zell."

I pushed my hair back from my forehead. "Zell is dangerous, almost an animal. But perhaps he's far enough above the animal to take only those who are willing. There's more willing than Joy Santee."

Ella peered into the bushes, her thin dress clinging to her slim body, glued here and there by sweat. "You're wrong, Zell's not 'almost animal,' he is an animal. I've seen his kind before. He won't care if a woman is willing or not. He might like it better if she's not."

"Let's rest," I said, and sat down in a shaded spot. "Even if he takes a woman, if he rapes, does it matter so much? If he wants me, I won't like it, but I've changed my mind about fighting him. I thought I would fight, last night. But today is new and the world is new-and I want to live, now. He's far too strong, too savage. If we're going to survive on this island, we need Kane Zell. Danny knows things about survival, but we can't trust him. When his liquor supply runs out, he may go insane. So if Zane wants to take me, I imagine I'll have to put up with it. We need him to keep us alive."

Ella slashed viciously at a flower bobbing in the ocean breeze. "I don't need him. If that bastard puts his hairy hands on me, I'll kill him. I said it before, and I mean it. You don't have to try talking me out of that, Julie."

We glared at each other, then suddenly, Ella was in my arms, her dark head pillowed upon my shoulder. "Maybe it won't happen," I murmured, patting her back, "maybe everything will be all right."

Comforting her, I felt comfort myself, a soft warmth spreading within me, relaxing me. The sensation was surprising; I thought I'd been lying to Ella when I said I wanted to live. Now I found I was telling the truth.

I felt warm tears slide down to kiss Ella's golden cheek-my tears. They should have been all used up. Ella clung to me in strange desperation, and we sat together for long minutes, each giving something. Then she pulled away, slowly, gently.

"You know," Ella said through uncertain lips, "that's the first time anybody ever cried over me, the very first time."

"I-didn't realize I was crying. I thought my eyes were dry forever. It's a new world here, Ella-if we'll let it be new."

"I hope so," she said. "I don't want anything to do with the old one."

Sako's body was brown and bare except for the twisted bit of white cloth that snugged her hips, and the other strip that held back her hair. A wave foamed around her smooth, gleaming knees as she waded to shore, sturdy and erect. A many-tied piece of parachute rigging lost itself in the green water behind her.

Panting a little, she nodded to Michiko and Kyoko, and offered the end of the line to them. "Parachutes," she said, "and one small bag. Not hard to pull out."

Michiko glanced at me. "Is the signal wood enough?"

"Hai," Kyoko said. "It will burn on high ground."

"And he does not know?" Michiko asked. Kyoko nodded. "As you said, Kuwaye-san; we didn't let him see us bringing the wood."

Michiko came over to where I sat by the growing pile of salvage. "You understand Japanese, don't you?"

"A little."

She studied me. "But you won't tell him?"

"Zell? About the signal fire? No."

"I didn't think you would." She said over her shoulder: "Speak English when Julie-san is here."

I joined them then, helping with the rope, tugging and hauling until the load floated ashore. Together we spread the nylon to dry. Her brown body slowly drying in the sun, Sako said: "No understand man. Why he no want go?"

Michiko said flatly, "Because here he is king and we are his slaves."

Sako shrugged. "Okay by me. I think I dive one more."

Michiko put a hand on her shoulder. "Remember to search for a gun."

Sako grinned. "No forget," and waded back into the sea.

I watched her arms flash in the sun as she moved out to the spot where the plane lay, and saw her legs flick high as she dived.

"She's graceful," I said.

Michiko nodded. "Sako learned to dive very young, in the pearl beds off Kyushu-before she discovered more money was to be made another way."

Sako's head bobbed up; she waved a hand at us and went under again.

"She works hard," the voice said behind us, and Michiko whirled with me to face it.

Danny stood with a spear over his shoulder, a patched-together thing made from a sharpened bit of metal, a stick and nylon cord. It wasn't sturdy as the one Zell carried.

Danny was drunk. "Behold," he said thickly, "the spear carrier. I'm looking for the rest of the chorus. Know whichaway they went?"

Michiko's lips curled. I said, "Better stay away from camp like that, Danny. Zell won't like it."

"Zell? Zell? Who's he-the tenor?"

Grinning clownishly, he stumbled down to the edge of the water and posed Indian-like, hand over his eyes, staring out at Sako. She was kicking strongly for shore now, tugging at the line. She swam effortlessly, one arm pulling before her, the other dragging her latest find. I thought again what a boon she was to us all. Nobody else could have reached the wreck; it lay in almost thirty feet of water.

Sako came on; gentle, frothy waves foamed past her to bubble upon the sand at our feet. Another wave formed behind her, moving up to catch up with her, to race her to the beach.

Something else was behind her, too, something gray, thin and straight, an edged blade leaving a white feather wake behind it.

Danny yelled it first. "Sako! Sako-hurry-fast-hurry!"

I felt him search for the Japanese word, heard him funnel it through cupped hands at her "Hiyakuhiyaku!"

Still yelling, Danny pointed with his spear. Sako paused in the water; she was near enough now to see the horror in our faces. She looked over one bare shoulder and screamed. Then she dug both arms into the sea and churned for the beach. She wasn't going to make it; the shark would be at her in another moment.

Danny was in the water, chin deep, flounding straight for the dark, deadly torpedo under the dorsal fin. Sako flashed past him, veering for shallow water, and Danny met the shark head on.

The jolt of the powerful body drove him back, but he held to the spear handle, stabbed its head against the monster that boiled sand and water a few feet away from his legs. Furious, Wright thrust him back, drove him off his feet, and we saw the gleam of gray sandpaper skin as the shark's body lunged halfway out of the sea.

Danny went under. Someone was screaming, the high, piercing wail of terror. It was me. Danny's head bobbed up again, and I stopped screaming. Scuttling backward, he jabbed, jabbed with his pitiful weapon until it stuck hard. He turned then and stumbled toward us. Sako caught his hands and tugged him safely ashore.

Behind him, the monster fought against the jagged piece of metal driven into its belly, the spear handle whipping over and over in blood-bubble water. A massive tail flipped high, and the thing was gone into deep water, leaving a dark trail behind it.

Danny was on his knees as we gathered around him. Fists clenched into his sunken belly, he shuddered. His face was white, his eyes burnt-out charcoal. There was an angry abrasion across one leg, just below the bottom of his chopped-off pants.

"If ever a d-drink was called for," he mumbled, "this is the time."

Small brown breasts heaving, her eyes wide, Sako placed her hands formally across her wet stomach and said in Japanese, bowing: "I most humbly thank you for giving me back my life."

Danny's shaky hands rubbed across his pale cheeks. "You left me, kid."

Michiko's face was composed now, still. "Sako thanks you for saving her from the shark. In broken English, it would not have sounded the same, so she spoke in her own language."

"No thanks due," Danny muttered. "Not for a threadbare hero."

He struggled to his feet and swayed there for a moment, then lurched away toward a tangle of trees. Going for his bottle, I thought, for liquid fortification against the tremendous letdown he was experiencing. But Danny Mixon hadn't been afraid, short minutes ago. Drunk or sober, he'd plunged into the sea to do battle-for a girl he knew well enough to value.

Danny Mixon had courage of his own.

Sako looked a question at Michiko, and the wiser woman nodded. Head down, Sako went to the pile of wet salvage and dug under it. When she rose again, there was a flat bottle in her hand. She hurried after Danny, water droplets diamonding her bronzed skin, beading the tautness of the smooth belly. Trim legs flashing, she entered the grove of trees.

Untliinking, I found myself trotting after them, disregarding Michiko's "no!" I followed the footprints across the beach, Danny's and Sako's, and into the cool greenery of palm and bamboo. At the edge of a little clearing, I stopped, hearing voices. I pushed aside a palm frond and saw them.

"Thanks," Danny was saying, "now we're even. You saved my life, too-or at least prolonged it for awhile."

"Find in plane," she said, kneeling beside him. "Three days keep; now for you."

Danny twisted off the cap. "To fish that stay the hell where they belong."

Sako wrinkled her nose. "What say, you? My English no good."

"I didn't say anything," Danny told her. "I talk a lot, but I don't say anything." He gulped at the bottle.

"You all time drink," she murmured. "Scared Zell-san, but no scared shark. How come?"

"Oh," he said, "I was afraid of the shark, too."

Her lips puckered; she leaned closer, looking into his face. "Danny-san, takusan thank you."

She was inches away, shining bare, smooth and damp. If he lifted one hand, he could close it on the dark nipple of her breast. He kissed her-lightly, gently.

"You don't have to pay me," he said softly. "It's all right."

I wanted to turn and run, but they would hear me. I wanted to flee, to close my eyes against what was about to happen. I couldn't. Hidden, a secret observer, I stared wide-eyed through the screening fronds. Now I understood why Michiko had said no.

Sako's hand moved to the white band across her sleek hair. It came away and her thick tresses fell free, coiling wetly to her shoulders.

"No pay, Darmy-san," she whispered. "You want. I want. Please, Danny-san."

She warmed herself against him, submissive, yet tenderly seeking. She twisted on her knees. "Jotomatte-just a minute, ne?"

A deft flick of small hands and the loin cloth was in the white sand beside her. She came to him again, not so yielding now, but eager, eager and a bronzed flame in his arms. I saw Danny lose himself in her, penetrate her moist sex while the salt wind kissed their bodies, caressed their bodies, and they did not know it touched them.

When they were quiet at last, when they were leg-locked and still from the sweeping climax of their passions, I finally found the strength to slip away from the little grove, from the intertwined bodies of the lovers. My mouth was dry and there was an ache deep within me that had nothing to do with the shame I was supposed to be feeling.

Somehow, I stumbled through the trees and along the beach. Somehow I made my way to the new campsite. There were people milling about there, and odors of cooking, and the excited chatter of girls as they told the others about Danny's fight with the shark. I felt apart from it all, and sat at the entrance to our new lean-to with Ella Martin. I was mixed-up, disturbed, emotionally tangled, and I didn't want to be. It was too soon, I told myself, too quick and too soon. I couldn't let this happen to me; I wouldn't allow it to happen.

Across the clearing, Zell laughed harshly and said something about not believing Danny had the guts. Then he went up to the cave to finish skinning out a pig he'd speared in the jungle.

Ella was talking to someone. I blinked hard and furiously, and made myself take notice. I flinched inwardly when I saw Danny Mixon standing over us.

"Congratulations," Ella was saying.

Face flushed, Danny said, "It was nothing. I always had a way with goldfish."

Ella lifted a feathery eyebrow. "I always thought you could smile, if you put your mind to it. Michiko said you were very brave."

"No, not brave-just there."

"Zell didn't believe it," Ella said.

Danny held out his bowl for some stew brewing in a tin can. "I don't believe it either; somebody must have pushed me."

I didn't look up at him until he said, "I got a reward, anyway. Sako presented me with a whole pint of gin she'd found in the plane."

"And," I said, "was that all you got?"

Danny lowered his bowl, "What?"

"You must have enjoyed your reward fully," I said, hating myself but unable to halt the flow of words. "There are teeth marks at the base of your throat."

I bounced up then, and stalked over to the cooking fire. Behind me, Danny said, "Now what the hell-"

"You're not only a drunk, Danny Mixon," Ella said calmly, "but you're also a damned fool."

"What the-wait; has everybody flipped around here?"

Ella's voice turned into anger. "Oh-go play with your damned bottles. Or with your girl friend, and let me-us-alone."

She was standing beside me in the warmth of the fire. "He's gone, now, all shook up. Sorry if I butted in where I don't belong, Julie. But he's such a-"

"Damned fool," I repeated. "Only he's not alone, Ella. I'm foolish, too. How-how could you tell?"

"Your face," she said. "It was written all over your face. You-saw them?"

"I wish I hadn't. I had no right."

Her arm went around my waist. "As much right as anyone else. What I said before, Julie, about not much changing on this island-that goes for the basics, toofor love and jealousy. But-him? Is it, because he's the only choice?"

I said, "I don't know, Ella. I should be in mourning; I should be on my way home to die. Instead, I-I'm wanting a man. Wanting him as I wanted my dead husband. Isn't that-all wrong?"

"Wrong?" Ella said. "Wrong is a word we used to know-that's all."