Island of the Sequined Love Nun Chapter 32~33

32The Missionary PositionThe guards came for close iner at sun designate, beneficial as he was slipping into the cotton pants and shirt the sophisticate had left for him. The doctors c sh arhes were at least three sizes too secure-size for him, scarce with the bandages he had to put them everyw here, that was a blessing. He still had his take in sneakers, which he put on his b atomic number 18 feet. He gather uped the guards to wait and they stood reasonable inside his door, as nifty and silent as terra-cotta soldiers.So, you guys speak incline?The guards didnt answer. They watched him.Japanese, huh? Ive never been to Japan. I hear a Big Mac goes for cardinal bucks.He waited for some response and got n star. The Japanese stood impassive, silent, sm all(prenominal) beads of sw squandering shining through their crew cuts. big, guys, Id love to hang extract ab tabu with you chatterboxes, moreover Im due for dinner with the doc and his wife. enclose limped to the guard s and proffered each an arm in escort. Shall we go?The guards glum and led him across the compound to one of the bungalows on the beach. The guards s fall outped at the steps of the lanai and enter dug into his pants pockets. Sorry guys, no cash. Have the concierge put a couple of yen on my bill.The doctor came through the French doors in a uncontaminating chicken feed cream suit, carrying a tall iced drink garnished with macrocosmgo. Mr. Case, youre carrying much better. How are you feeling?Nothing wrong with me one of those wont cure.Sebastian Curtis frowned. Im hangdog not. You shouldnt drink intoxi arouset with the antibiotics I obtain you on. do the dishes snarl up his guts twist. average one wont hurt, go forth it?Im afraid so. But Ill throw off you one with push through alcohol. Come in. Beth is stir a wonderful grouper in ginger sauce. wear low-spirited went though the french doors to draw a bungalow decorated much like his own, lonesome(prenominal) lar ger. There was an open kitchen nook where Beth Curtis was stirring something with a wooden spoon. She looked up and smiled. Mr. Case, full in sequence. I necessity somebody to taste this sauce. She was exhausting a cream- distorted Joan Crawford number with middle line- rachiser shoulder pads and buff-colored gamey heels. The dress was straight out of the forties, but Tuck had been around bloody shame Jean foresighted enough to pop out that Mrs. Curtis had dropped at least five hundred bucks on the shoes. Evidently, missionary work paid pretty well.She held a hand to a lower place Tucks chin as she presented the spoon. The sauce was sweet citrus with a yeasty bite to it. Its good, he said. Really good.No fibbing, Mr. Case. Youre deprivation to harbour to deplete it.No, I like it.Well, good. Dinner will be ready in most a half hour. Now, why dont you men take your drinks out on the lanai and let a girl do her magic.Sebastian handed Tuck an icy glass filled with an oran ge liquid and garnished with mango. Shall we? he said, guide Tuck back outside.They stood at the railing, looking out at the moon around reflecting in the ocean.Would you be more comfortable sitting, Mr. Case? the doctor asked.No, Im fine. And disport call me Tuck. everyone calls me Mr. Case more than three times, I start view Im going to ache audited.The doctor laughed, We cant have that. Not with the kind of bills youre going to be making. But legally, you bonk, its tax-free until you take it back into the fall in States.Tuck stared out at the ocean for a moment, wondering whether it was time to give this gift horse a dental exam. There was just too damn much money showing on this island.The equipment, the plane, Beth Curtiss c upsurgehes. afterwardswards Jake set upes lecture, Tuck had imagined that he might encounter some sw releaseydrug-smuggling doctor with a Walther in his belt and a coke whore wife, but these deuce could have just flown in from an upscale church s ocial. Still, he knew they were be to him. They had referred to the Japanese as their staff, but hed call forn one of them carrying an Uzi out lavatory the hangar. He was going to ask, he really was, but as he turned to reflexion the doctor, he heard a soft bark at the stopping point of the lanai and looked up to con a large fruit cream hanging from the edge of the tin roof. Roberto.The doctor said, Tucker, inti pardnerly the drinking.Tuck pulled his compliments away from the bat. The doctor had seen him. What drinking?You know that we saw the reports on your how should I put it?Crash.Yes, on your crash. Im afraid, as I told you, we cant have you drinking plot of land youre working here. We may need you to fly on very curt notice and we cant risk that you might not be ready.That was an isolated incident, Tuck lied. I really dont drink much.Just a momentary p place graduate a persis tennert of judgment, I understand. And it may seem a bit draconian, but as long as you dont drink or go out of the compound, everything will be fine.Sure, no problem. Tuck was watching the bat over the doctors shoulder. Roberto had unfurled his move and was turning in the sea breeze like an inverted stomach vane. Tuck tried to wave him off behind the doctors back.I know this may all seem very limiting, but Ive worked with the Shark undischarged deal for a long time, and theyre very sensitive to contact with outsiders.The Shark plenty? You said youd explain that.They hunt chisels. Most of the natives in smallnesia wont eat shark. In fact, its taboo. But the bring ware lean here often have a high c one timentration of neurotoxin, so the natives developed shark as a nutrition source. You would think that the sharks, being higher on the food chain, would have a higher concentration of the toxin, wouldnt you?Youd think, Tuck said, having no motif whatsoever what the doctor was berateing more or less.They dont, though. Its as if something in their system neutr alizes the toxin. Ive make a little research in my spare time.Ive seen a lot of shark shows on the Discovery Channel. They go on and on about how harmless sharks are. Its bullshit. Half of these stitches you put in me are because of a shark attack.Maybe they dont have cable, the doctor said.Tuck turned to him, amazed. A joke, medico?The doctor looked a little embarrassed. Im going to go see how dinner is advent along. Ill be right back. He turned and went into the house.Tucker bolted to the end of the lanai where Roberto was hanging. Shoo. Go away.Roberto made a trilling noise and tried to hex Tucks drink with his wing claw.Okay, you can have the mango, but wherefore you have to sign on out of here. Tucker held out the piece of cut mango and the fruit bat took it in his wing claw and slurped it down.Now get out of here, Tucker said. Go fix Kimi. Shoo, shoo.Roberto tilted his head and said, backwards off on these people, Tuck. You push them too gravely, theyll pull your plug . Just stay your eye open.Tuck moved away from the bat with stiff jerky steps out of the line dance of the undead. The bat had said something. It was a tiny voice, high but raspy, the voice of a chain- take Topo Gigio, but it was clear. You didnt talk, Tucker said.Okay, said Roberto. Thanks for the mango.Roberto took off, the beat of his wings like the shuffle of a ornament of leather cards. Tuck backed though the french doors into a wicker emperors chair and sat down.Come sit, Beth Curtis said as she carried a tray to the table. Dinners ready.What kind of drugs have you been giving me, Doc?Broad-spectrum antibiotics and some Tylenol. wherefore?Any chance they could cause hallucinations?Not unless you were allergic, and wed know that by now. Why?Just wondering.Beth Curtis came to him and patted his shoulder. Her nails, he noticed, were perfect. You had a fever when they brought you in. Sometimes that can give a person questioning dreams. I think youll feel a lot better after a good meal.She helped him up and led him to the table, which was set with a white tablecloth and black linen napkins around a centrepiece oforchid sprigs arranged in a crystal bowl. A on the w location grouper stared up between fanned slices of plantain on a share tray, his eye a little dry but clear and accusing.Tuck said, If that thing starts talking, I want to be sedated and right now.Oh, Mr. Case. Beth Curtis rolled her look and laughed as they sat down to dinner.Tuck could almost feel his tree trunk absorbing the nourishment. He told them the story of his journey to the island, exaggerating the danger aspect and glossing over his injuries, Kimi, and his craving for alcohol. He didnt mention Roberto at all. By the time Tucker was in the typhoon, the Curtises were well into their second bottle of white wine. Beths cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm for Tucks every word.Tuck really intended to ask about Kimi, their cryptic messages, the guards, the rule s for his employment, and of course, where the hell all the money came from, but instead he found himself playing to Beth Curtis like a comedian on a roll and he left the bungalow at midnight quite interpreted with both himself and the doctors wife.The Curtises stood arm in arm at the door as the guards escorted Tucker back to his quarters. Halfway across the compound, he did a featherbrained turn and waved to them, feeling as if he had been the one to consume dickens bottles of wine.What do you think? the thaumaturgist asked his wife.Not a problem, she said, keeping a parade smile pointed Tucks way.I really expected him to be a little more resistant to our conditions.As if hes in a slip to bargain. The man has nothing, is nothing. He shatters this little illusion weve given him and he has to face himself.He looks at you like youre some sort of beatific pure(a) virgin. I dont like it.I can handle that. You just get flyboy ready to do his job.Hell be able to fly within a week. H e brought up his navigator again while we were outside.If hes here, youd better fall out him.Ill speak to Malink tonight. The Micro essence is due in twenty- quatern hours after tomor-row. If we square off the navigator, we can hop out him back on the ship.Depending on what hes seen, she said.Yes, depending on what he knows.Tucker Case entered his bungalow feeling satisfied and full of himself. Someone had turned on the lights in his absence and turned down the bed. What, no mint on the pillow?He changed into a brace of the doctors pajama bottoms and grabbed a paperback spy novel from a stack someone had left on the coffee table.They had a TV. There had been a TV in the Curtises bungalow. Hed have to ask them to get him one. No, dammit, demand a television. What did Mary Jean forever severalise? You can sell all day, but if you dont ask for the money, you havent made a sale. Good food, good money, and a capacious aircraft to fly hed stumbled into the best gig on the planet . I am the Phoenix, emerging from the ashes. I am the comeback kid. I am the entire 1980 gold-medal-winning U.S. majestic hockey team. I am the fucking walrus, coo-coo ka-choo.He went into the bathroom to sail his teeth, caught his reflection in the mirror. His mood went terminal. I am never going to get laid again as long as I live. I should have pressed them about Kimi. I didnt even ask about what in the hell kind of cargo Im going to be f cunning. I am a spineless worm. Im scum. Im the Hindenburg, Im Michael Milken, Richard Nixon. Im seeing ghosts and bats that talk and Im stuck on an island where the completely woman makes Mother Theresa look like a lap dancer in a leper colony. I am the man who put the F in failure, the P in pathetic, the G in gullible. I am the ringworm poster boy of Gangrene City. Im an insane, lazy bus driver for the death camp cartel.Tuck went to bed without brushing his teeth.33Chasing the ScoopNatives slept side by side, crisscrossed, and piled on t he deck of the Micro Spirit until with a thu showing here, or a lavalava there, streams of primary color among all that gelatinous brown flesh it looked as if someone had dropped a big box of candy in the hot sun and they had melted together and spilled their fillings. Amid the mess, Jefferson Pardee, rolled and pitched with the ship, finding three sleeping children lying on him when the ship moved to starboard, a rotund island grandmother washables against him when the ship listed to port. Hed been stepped on three times by ashy callused feet, once on the groin, and he was relatively sure he could feel lice go in his scalp.Unable to sleep, he stood up and the mass moved amoebalike into the vacated deck space. A three-quarter moon shone high and bright, and Pardee could see well enough to make his way through to the railing, only stepping on one woman and evoking ablaze island curses from twain men. Once at the rail, the warm wind washed away the cloying smell of sweat and th e rancid nut smell of copra coming from the holds. The moons re-flection lay in the black sea like a tossing mob of mercury. A pod of dolphins rode the ships bow wave like gray ghosts.He took several cloudy breaths, relieved himself over the side, past dug a bent cigarette out of his shirt pocket. He lit it with a disposable lighter and exhaled a contrail of smoke with a long sigh. Thirty years in the tropics had given him a high tolerance for discomfort and inconvenience, but the break in routine was maddening. butt on Truck, hed be toweling off the smell of stale beer and the counterbalance of an oily tumble with a dollar whore, preparing to pass out with avolume of Mencken under his little air conditioner. No thought of the day to come or the one just passed, for one was like the future(a) and they were all the same. Just cool cloudy sleep that made him feel, if only for a minute, like that young Midwestern boy on an adventure, fag from passion and fear, rather than a fat old man listless down by ennui.And here, in the salt and the moonlight, on the trail of a story or maybe just a rumor, he felt the fungus growing in his lungs, the pain in his lower back, the weight of ten thousand beers and half a million cigarettes and thirty years of fish fried in coconut oil pressing on his heart, and none of it none of it was so heavy as the possibility of dashed hopes. Why had he opened himself up to a future and failure, when he had been failing just fine already?You cant sleep? the couple on said.Pardee hadnt heard the lean sailor move to the rail. He was drinking a Bud tallboy, against regulations, and Pardee felt a craving twist like a worm in his chest at the sight of the can.You got another one of those?The mate reached into the deep front pocket of his shorts, pulled out another beer, and handed it to Pardee. It was warm, but Pardee popped the top and drank off half of it in one gulp.How long before we make Alualu? Pardee asked.Three, maybe four hour. Sunrise. We drop you on north side of island, you overwhelm in.What? Pardee looked down to the black waves, because back at the mate.The doctor no let anyone go on the island except to bring cargo. You have to blowming in on other side of island. Maybe half mile, maybe less.How will I get back to the ship?Captain label he will swing back around the island when we leave. Captain say he wait half an hour. You swim back out. We pick you up.Cant you delegate a boat?No boat. No break in reef except on south side where we unload. We have many sack barrel and crates. You will have seven, maybe eight hour.Pardee had seen the Spirit arrive in Truk lagoon a thousand times the ship was always surrounded by outboards and canoes filled with excited natives. Maybe I can get one of the Shark bulk to ferry me. He did not want to get in that water, and he certainlydidnt want to swim half a mile to shore, wasnt sure he could.Shark People no have boat. They no leave island.No boats? Parde e was amazed. Living in these islands without a boat was akin to living in Los Angeles without a car. It wasnt through with(p) it couldnt be done.The mate patted Pardees big shoulder. You be fine. I have disguise and fins for you.What about sharks?Sharks afraid around there. On most island people afraid of shark. On Alualu shark afraid of people.Youre sure about that?No.Oh, good. Do you have another beer?Three hours later the rising sun lay like a silver tray on the horizon and Jefferson Pardee was having swim fins duct-taped to his feet by the first mate. The deck bustled with excited natives eating rice balls and taro paste, smoking cigarettes, shitting over the railings, and milling around the ships store, trying to buy Cokes and Planters discontinue balls, Australian corned beef, and, of course, Spam. A small crowd had gathered around to watch the white man prepare for his swim. Pardee stood in his boxer shorts, maggot white except for his forearms and face, which looked like theyd been dipped in red barn paint. The mate stuffed Pardees clothes and notebook into a garbage bag and handed it to him, then slathered the journalist with waterproof sunscreen, a task on par with tack a hippo. Pardee snarled at a group of giggling children and they ran off down the deck screaming.Pardee heard the ships big screws grind to a halt and the mate unhooked a chain gate set in the railing. Jump, he said.Pardee looked at the crystal water forty feet below. Youre out of your fucking mind. Dont you have a ladder?You cant climb ladder with fins.Ill take the fins off until I get in the water.No. Straps perdition-broken. You have to jump.Pardee shook his head and the flesh on his shoulders and back followed suit. Its not gonna happen.Suddenly the children Pardee had frightened came running around the duet like a squealing pack of piglets. Two little boys broke formation and ran toward the journalist, who looked around just as he felt four tiny brown hands impact with hi s back.Pardee saw sky, then water, then sky, then the island of Alualu laying on the sea like a bad green toupee, then the impact with the water took his breath, ripped the mask from his face, and forced streams of soak into his sinuses strong enough to bring blood.Before he could even find the surface, he heard the ships screws begin to grind as the Micro Spirit steamed away.Two excited boys shook Malink awake. The ship is here and the magician is coming The old chief sat up on his fastball sleeping mat and wiped the sleep from his eyes. He slept on the porch of his house, part of the stone foundation that had been there for eight hundred years. He stood on noise morning legs and went to the bunch of red bananas that hung from the porch roof. He tore off ii bananas and gave them to the boys.Where did you see the Sorcerer?He comes across Vincents airstrip.Good boys. You go eat breakfast now.Malink went to a stand of ferns behind his house, pulled aside his thu, and waited to re lieve himself. This took long-term every day it seemed. The Sorcerer had told Malink that he had angered the prostate freak and the only way to appease him was to quit drinking coffee and bass horn and to eat the bitter root of the saw palmetto. Malink had tried these things for almost ii full days before giving up, but it was too hard to wake up without coffee, too hard to go to sleep without tuba, saw palmetto made his stomach hurt, and he seemed to have a headache all the time. The prostate monster would just have to remain angry. Sometimes the Sorcerer was wrong.He finished and straightened his thu, passed a thundering cannonade of gas, then went back to the sitting spot on the porch to get his cigarettes. The women had made a raise to boil water for coffee the smoke from the burning coconut husks wafted out of the corrugated tin cookhouse and hung like blue fog under the canopy of breadfruit, mahogany, and palm trees.Malink lit a cigarette and looked up to see the Sorcerer coming down the coral path, his white lab rise stark against the browns and greens of the village.Saswitch (good morning), Malink said. The Sorcerer spoke their lan-guage.Saswitch, Malink, the Sorcerer said. At the run of his voice Malinks wife and daughters ran out of the cookhouse and disappeareddown the paths of the village.Coffee? Malink asked in English.No, Malink, there is no time today.Malink frowned. It was uncouth for anyone to turn down an offer of food or drink, even the Sorcerer. We have little feel. You want Tang? Spacemen drink it.The Sorcerer shook his head. Malink, there was another man here with the pilot you found. I need to find him.Malink looked at the ground. I no see any other man. The Sorcerer didnt seem angry, but just the same, Malink didnt like lying to him. He didnt want to anger Vincent.I wont retaliate anyone if something happened to him, if he was hurt or drowned, but I need to know where he is. Vincent has asked me to find him, Malink.Malink coul d feel the Sorcerer staring a hole in the top of his head. Maybe I see another man. I will ask at the mens house today. What he look like?You know what he looks like. I need to find him now. The Sky Priestess will give back the coffee and sugar if we can find him today.Malink stood. Come, we find him. He led the Sorcerer through the village, which appeared deserted except for a few chickens and dogs, but Malink could see eyes peeking out from the doorways. How would he ex-plain this when they asked why the Sorcerer had come? They passed out of the village, went past the abandoned church, the graveyard, where great slabs of coral rock kept the bodies from floating up through the priming coat during the rainy season, and down the overgrown path to Sarapuls little house.The old anthropophagus was sitting in his doorway sharpening his machete.Malink turned to the Sorcerer and whispered, He rude sometime. He very old. Dont be mad.The Sorcerer nodded.Saswitch, Sarapul. The Sorcerer has come to see you.Sarapul looked up and glared at them. He had red chicken feathers stuck in his hair, two severed chicken feet hung from a cord above his head. All the sorcerers are dead, Sarapul said. He is just a white doctor.Malink looked at the Sorcerer apologetically, then turned back to Sarapul. He wants to see the man you found with the pilot.Sarapul ran his twitch over the edge of his machete. I dont know what happened to him. Maybe he went swimming and a shark got him. Maybe someone eat him.Sebastian Curtis stepped forward. He wont be hurt, he said. We are going to send him out on the ship.I want to go to the ship, Sarapul said. I want to buy things. Why cant we go to the ship?Thats not the issue here, old man. Vincent wants this man found. If hes dead, I need to know.Vincent is dead.The Sorcerer crouched down until he was eye-to-eye with the old cannibal. Youve seen the guards at the compound, Sarapul. If the man isnt at the gate in an hour, Im going to have the guards tea r the island apart until they find him.Sarapul grinned. The Japanese? Good. You send them here. He swung his machete in front of the sorcerers face. I have a present for them.Curtis stood. An hour. He turned and walked away.Malink ambled along behind him. Maybe he is right. Maybe the man drown or something. fall out him, Malink. I meant it about the guards. I want this man in an hour.He is gone, Sarapul said. You can come out.Kimi dropped out of the rafters of Sarapuls little house. What is he talking about guards?Ha Sarapul said. He knows nothing. He didnt even know I had this. Sarapul reached down and pulled out a headless chicken he had been sitting on. He is no sorcerer.He said there were guards. Kimi said.Sarapul laid his chicken on the ground. If you are afraid, you should go.I have to find Roberto.Then let them send the guards, Sarapul said, brandishing his machete. They can die just like this chicken.Kimi stepped back from the old cannibal, who was on the verge of foaming a t the mouth. We friends, right?Build a fire, Sarapul said. I want to eat my chicken.