The Birthmark Read online

  Decima was the only girl her age and, because Auntie Eide was sick, her family wouldn’t be coming until later in the afternoon. By then everyone would be so pissed they wouldn’t be able to talk without a fight erupting. Last time Rongo and one of her cousins were taken to hospital because they’d smashed beer bottles over each other. This time Lily wished someone would hit her uncle Eldon.

  The sound of another vehicle disturbed her thoughts. Rongo lurched through the grass on Lorelei’s scooter. A plastic bag containing the missing barbecue tongs hung from the handlebars. Behind Rongo another battered Landrover entered the clearing. It was crammed full of Amos’s relatives from the other side of the island. A good time to escape, Lily thought. She walked quickly to the track that led to Leper Beach.

  Trees spread their branches as far as the water’s edge. Coral pinnacles stood at both ends of the bay. They were like rocky columns that formed the sides of a giant window in the sand, no more than fifteen metres wide. The leafy canopy above formed the rest of the window.

  Lily sat on the shore, digging her toes into the sand. The beach was in shadow. Even though it would soon be midday the air was cool and she shivered. She looked out at the calm waters rippling over the reef and tried to relax.

  It was so hard. Every time she saw her uncle Eldon she was sick with shame and disgust. She didn’t want to be anywhere near him, she didn’t want him even to look at her.

  She remembered the night it had happened as if time didn’t count. The pain was so real it consumed her with hatred each time she saw him. Eldon had woken her, whispered to her to be quiet and pinned her down. The stink of beer and cigarettes had clogged every part of her. She had tried to jerk to the side.

  ‘Don’t move,’ he’d snarled.

  She’d struggled. ‘Get off me,’ she’d gasped, but that’s all she’d said. He whacked her, just like Lorelei always did, where her lip was already split and tender. The scab burst, opening like a mango turned inside out. She’d felt the blood in her mouth and tasted it.

  His hand pushed in between her legs and she’d wriggled to one side in a desperate attempt to get away, but there was only the wall. There was no escape.

  Instinctively she had gone outside her body as she’d lain there—to float somewhere on the edge of the reef. There was an old wooden boat anchored a few metres out from the reef. She’d looked into the depths, the big blue-black emptiness that heaved and swelled, and felt herself sinking into the gloom. But the sensation of drowning had overcome her and she’d gasped for air as Eldon rolled off her.

  Now here at Leper Beach tears hung in her eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks, but she brushed them away. There was no one who could help her. She dared not tell even Decima. The shame would be too much. Be brave, she told herself. You mustn’t cry. You must never cry, even when you fall down and you bleed, you mustn’t cry.

  Blood, why was she thinking of blood? It had been in her dreams again last night: her drowning, sinking in the blood-soaked sea. There had been wailing too and a whisper of it remained when she opened her eyes. Someone had been screaming with pain, crying out for help and there was nothing she could do because she was sinking into the depths and her purple hand burnt. It prickled unbearably when she woke.

  Lily shuddered at the memory. Somehow she knew the vision in her mind belonged here, at Leper Beach. It was a mystery how such a nightmare originated from this tranquil place. She felt the beach was special and always came here whenever there were family barbecues at the clearing nearby. She tried to imagine who the lepers were and what happened to them.

  The slapping of thongs along the path jolted her back to the present.

  ‘What you doing down here girl? You’ve got work to do,’ Lorelei said.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m coming.’

  She wished she could just disappear. The stupid barbecue was all a farce anyway. Dad didn’t want a party. He’d rather be in the arms of his Gilbertese girlfriend or getting pissed somewhere miles away from Lorelei.

  ‘Your cousins are here now. They’re asking where you are.’

  ‘I just wanted to see the beach, I like it here.’

  Lorelei paused in the shadows. ‘Some of our relatives lived here once, long ago.’

  The idea took a while to sink in. Lily turned to look up at her mother. ‘You never told me that—do you mean they were lepers?’ Lily said.

  ‘Yeah, an old great granny, she was a leper, and her husband. No one alive knows anything about her anymore. She stayed here at the leper hospital with a granddaughter, one of my aunts. They all died during the war. Someone once told me that my auntie drowned. I’m not sure if it’s true or not.’

  ‘What were their names?’

  ‘She was Edouwe. I’ve forgotten the old woman’s name.’

  ‘How come you’ve never told me before?’

  ‘Didn’t think you were interested.’

  There was a heavy silence while Lily gauged her mother’s mood. ‘Ma, sometimes I think I hear voices in my dreams, of wailing women. You don’t think it’s her do you? Edouwe, I mean.’

  ‘Shit, girl, where do you get these stupid ideas? You’ve been spending too much time with that thief Hector and his crazy ibu. You stay away from them, girl. That old man Riki is strange. He doesn’t talk to anyone, turns and walks away when people go near. He’s rude, he’s no good. You keep away.’

  ‘But Hector says…’ ‘No! Hector, too, my girl. He’s a thief. You keep away. Stay at home where you’re safe.’

  Lily rolled her eyes. Yeah, at home with you knocking me round all the time? Stupid, fat witch, always telling me what to do. Stuff her—Hector was harmless.

  ‘Come on, Lil, I want you to get the rice out and cook the breadfruit.’

  Lily wanted to say, ‘Why don’t you do it yourself, you lazy bitch’, but she saw the can of beer in Lorelei’s hand and she didn’t want to tempt fate. She stood up, brushed sand from her shorts and led the way back up the path to the clearing.

  Joachim and Rongo were at the barbecue, turning sausages and chicken wings and waving the smoke away from their eyes.

  Lily walked to the back of the Landrover and pulled out a big basin of breadfruit. She covered each fruit in foil then carried the basin over to the barbecue ready for

  Rongo to cook the breadfruit in the ashes.

  The next chore was the rice. It was one of the first things packed in the Landrover and she had to stretch out along the length of the vehicle to pull it towards her. She sensed a person behind her. She froze.

  ‘Want some help?’

  It was Eldon.

  Her body was strung like a fishing line about to break. She leapt back to stand up straight and felt his body behind her, pushing up against her buttocks. He wrapped one of his chunky arms around her waist and pressed her against his groin.

  ‘Ngaitirre!’ she snapped, elbowing him in the chest and breaking free of his hold. As she spun around she yanked at the Landrover door to slam it against him, but he saw it coming and braced himself.

  ‘What’s the matter? I just asked if you wanted some help,’ he whined, his brow wrinkling in earnest. He held his hands awkwardly across his fat belly as if he didn’t know what to do with them, his stubby fingers patting and tapping nervously. Looks just like a dog that’s been kicked, she thought.

  ‘Get the rice out,’ she snarled, backing away towards the barbecue. She could feel herself shaking and her breath was coming too fast. She knew she’d have to calm down, but she was furious. Safe, hey Lorelei? She snorted out her rage as she neared the barbecue. Stuff them! Stuff them both. One day, she swore to herself, one day she’d kill the bastard.

  seven

  Yamek District

  30 December 1942

  Tepu left the camp straight after he’d eaten, when night was already creeping into the sky. He made his way through the forest alongside Baringa Bay. To his left was the Ring Road and the beach. He dared not walk on the track for fear of patrols. Out on the bea
ch he’d also be easily spotted from the pillboxes that lined the coast every mile or so.

  Inside his trouser pocket the stone felt warm against his thigh. He trusted it to guide his feet, make his footsteps unheard, make his progress swift. Whenever he carried the stone his senses strengthened. He could hear not only the surf crashing on the reef but also the whisper of the retreating waves speeding back to the sea. Underfoot in the forest he felt the squelch of humus between his toes and knew by its consistency which part of the forest he was in. He saw clearly the forms and shapes of trees, fallen logs and rocky outcrops. All would have been merely vague shadows to him before. He was thankful for the stone’s powers.

  Tonight was a self-imposed test. Could he make it to the leper colony and back without being caught? It was a half hour walk along the track during daylight. He hoped to make it there and back again through the forest in less than two hours.

  As he crept through the jungle he was alert to any sign of a Japanese patrol. High above him in the walls of the escarpment to his right was the Baringa Bay lookout, a bunker that many of the officers used. The track that led to the bunker was somewhere nearby in the forest. Voices rang out from the cliff top, muffled by the thick vegetation. Tepu was sure it was Japanese officers relaxing after a day’s supervision in the sun.

  He edged his way forward silently as he neared the section of jungle where the path to the bunker began. The forest was thinner here but there were lots of coral pinnacles to hide behind. Tepu knew, however, that they were hiding places for the enemy too.

  A noise ahead made Tepu freeze. Someone cleared his throat and spat.

  Should he go on? He couldn’t just slink away without trying to reach the leper colony. Tepu took a deep breath and rested his hand against the stone in his pocket. It was still warm. The heat calmed him, helped him to think clearly.

  He peered into the darkness. The silhouette of a sentry leant against a pinnacle, but Tepu knew there would be others stationed nearby. They never stood alone.

  Tepu crouched behind a large rock and fumbled in the dirt until he found a few chunks of coral. He took aim and threw a pebble at the sentry’s pinnacle.

  Crack! It clipped the top of the pinnacle and ricocheted off at right angles.

  The sentry jolted into action. He spun about and flourished his rifle. Another marine called from behind him. The sentry shouted in reply and pointed his rifle into the darkness well wide of where Tepu hid.

  Summoning all his courage, Tepu hurled a second stone. It fell short of the pinnacle, thudding in the dust at the sentry’s feet.

  Tepu swallowed hard. He wished his second shot had been as accurate as his first.

  More shouting followed. This time the other sentry emerged from hiding and prowled behind the first. They bent low over their weapons, scanning the gloom of the forest, alert to the slightest noise. To Tepu’s horror they were coming towards him.

  Anbwido

  Monday 28 June 2004

  Hector watched his grandfather sleeping at the edge of the porch, his back against a corner post, his head lolling on one shoulder. The island shirt he wore, once a vibrant blue and red, was now a faded rag with several buttons missing. His brown belly protruded where the shirt failed to cover him. As he dozed his thick purple lips trembled and his nose quivered. Hector thought his grandfather had the biggest lips and longest nose of anyone he’d ever seen, except of course for the Australian teachers and Christina and her dad. Their noses were thin and sharp like beaks.

  Hector sat on the steps whittling a length of wood. This piece was one of his newest projects and he imagined it when finished as a long thin staff, probably not strong enough to support someone, but beautiful because of its curves and fineness. He liked the wild, twisted shapes that fallen branches made. Strewn on the beach, they were dry and bleached from the harsh sunlight. Did they all come from the few tortured looking trees that hung over the beaches on the island? Or maybe they were driftwood, resting after a journey of thousands of kilometres from the islands of Guam or the Gilberts.

  He’d also found lightly weathered branches in his wanderings through the scrub near the house. The wood was always wet in the forest. It didn’t take long for the jungle to turn everything into black soil.

  He looked up from his work. The three girls were walking up the track from Decima’s house towards the ‘hut’, as he and Riki called their home.

  As they came nearer there was no mistaking them: Lily with her thick legs, Decima with her squeaky voice, and the long pale limbs of the Australian girl. They laughed as they walked along.

  ‘Where you going?’ Hector called out.

  ‘Coming to see the chicken thief,’ Decima said.

  Riki stirred and opened his mouth, startled.

  ‘It’s OK, Ibu, we’ve got visitors.’

  The old man straightened his shirt and eased himself up into a standing position. He smiled at the girls, indicating the table at the other end of the porch.

  ‘Come…sit,’ he said.

  Hector disappeared indoors to find water and food to share. In the kitchen he opened the old bar fridge: three bottles of water and a plate of tinned mackerel in tomato sauce stared back at him. He suddenly felt very aware of his poverty. If only they had more, to impress the girls and make him feel good. He got out the plate and rested it on the bench while he inspected the contents of the morning’s rice pot. He heaped a few spoonfuls of rice onto the plate beside the fish and took it out to his guests.

  The three girls were squashed together on one side of the table. Decima and Christina were smiling but Lily looked frightened. He saw her gaze go from Riki to the ceiling. He looked up to see what she could find fault with. Was it the floats and fishing nets hanging from the rafters? No, he knew his grandfather was the problem.

  ‘Drink too, Hector,’ Riki said.

  Hector went inside again and fetched a chilled bottle of water and some cups.

  ‘Are you looking for chickens?’ he heard Riki ask the girls.

  ‘Eh no, we’re just going for a walk,’ Decima said, winking at Hector as he came out with the water.

  Shit, wrong one, he thought. Why isn’t Lily winking at me? He settled himself beside his ibu and poured the water.

  ‘You know Lily, Ibu? She lives down on the beach,’

  Hector said. ‘And this is Christina. She’s here on holidays from Australia.’

  The old man nodded at Christina then turned to Lily and smiled. ‘I know Decima is my neighbour…you are Decima’s friend, yes?

  Decima interrupted, ‘She’s my cousin, Riki. Her mum, Lorelei, is my auntie.’

  ‘Ah…and your father?’ Riki said.

  ‘Amos Fasiti, from here in Anbwido,’ Lily said.

  The old man nodded again, ‘I know your father, a footballer in his youth…you have his face…same eyes I think.’ He stretched out over the table and grasped Lily’s stained hand.

  Hector held his breath wondering what the old man was doing. Don’t screw this up for me, Ibu, he thought. Lily looked startled, but she let the old man take her hand. The splash of purple skin contrasted with the leathery brown of the old man’s.

  ‘What happened to your hand?’ Riki asked.

  ‘Nothing,’ said Lily, ‘it’s been like that since I was a baby.’

  Riki kept nodding. ‘This is an unusual mark. You are a special person,’ he said, turning her arm gently to see the extent of the birthmark.

  Lily wrenched her hand away and the old man let it go without resisting. He smiled at her, but said nothing. She stared at the floor. A long silence followed. He had to think of something to say or they’d leave.

  ‘Have some water,’ he said, conscious of his forced voice.

  ‘We thought we’d go over to Anbwido for a swim,’ Decima said, collecting the cups. ‘But we said we’d show Christina some things from the war too.’

  The old man looked at Decima coldly. ‘Why do you want to do that?’

  Hector came to her rescue.
‘You know Ibu, tourism, and her dad’s told her stuff about the war.’

  Riki sighed, sat back in his chair and stared into a space beyond them all. His big purple lips moved back and forth, as flexible as bubblegum.

  He always did this, Hector mused. The mouth movements were his pre-speech warm-ups. Here comes the speech of the day—how embarrassing.

  Riki took a deep breath. ‘The war, yes, there were marines here. I was just a young boy then. Just like Hector. Made us work. Made us do all their work. They were mean. We had nothing to eat.’ He paused and turned to Hector, ‘Do the girls want to see the hat?’ he said. ‘Go get the hat.’

  Hector went into the kitchen. Above the fridge was a shelf that held rusty metal boxes, old cartridges and a battered tin helmet. He took the helmet and went back outside.

  ‘See this, it’s a Jap helmet,’ he said handing it to Christina.

  She turned the blackened metal over in her hands and felt the dints in it. ‘Good protection. It looks like someone tried to shoot the soldier in the head.’

  ‘Mum,’ Riki murmured.

  Christina passed the helmet over to Decima and Lily who inspected it in silence.

  ‘How did you survive?’ Christina asked.

  ‘We ate rats, lizards…we stole…stole anything we could. We did it to stay alive.’ He took a sip of water. ‘Not like now…kids thieving all day and night…think they can do whatever they like. Won’t listen to the old people. Won’t do what they’re told. Are kids like that in Australia?’

  ‘Some of them,’ Christina answered.

  ‘Tell us more about the Japs,’ Hector said, steering the topic back.

  ‘Swearing too. We never swore like that. We never swore like young people now.’ Riki scratched at his stomach where it was exposed, coughed loudly, leaned to the side of the porch and spat over the side.