Authors: Homer Hickam
The children were playing with a giant vertebra, rolling it like a thick wheel along the hard-packed sand. Rose took a seat on a backbone that supported a double row of towering ribs. “What is your impression, husband?” she asked.
“Fantastic is the only way to describe it!”
“You are pleased I brought you here?”
Josh grinned and wiped the sweat from his eyes. “You bet I am.”
“Then I am pleased as well.” She smiled and shaded her eyes with her hand to watch after the children. Then she spotted something lying in the sand. It was a lagoon canoe paddle. “This paddle belongs to Kando, the father of Mori, Chief Kalapa's first wife. I recognize his mark on the handle. When I have been here before, I always find lost things from the village.”
“I think there is a powerful current that sweeps into this cove,” Josh observed, “but the skeletons are still a mystery. There are too many of them to imagine they're here only because of the current. They must come nearby to die. But why?”
“Only the whales know,” Rose answered. “They have their ways, and they are not ours.”
Josh decided to go exploring for ambergris while Rose went off to play with the children. He allowed himself to admire her for a moment, smiling at how she could so easily become childlike herself. He saw her waiting below while Manda climbed one of the great ribs. The girl threw herself off into her mother's arms, and then Rose, still holding Manda, twirled around and around with excited laughter. Turu came running up with a tooth, so large he had to use both his hands to hold it, and Rose went down on her knees to marvel at it. Then Manda picked up another tooth and tossed it into the hollow center of a particularly large vertebra, which started a game of throwing
teeth into the hole, accompanied by much good-natured jeering when a toss was missed.
Josh walked among the magnificent yet sad remnants of creatures that had once ruled the sea. He knew sperm whales were not gentle souls. They were voracious feeders, diving into great, sunless depths to eat the masses of squid that could be found there. When Josh had been a cabin boy aboard the
Bathsheba,
he'd heard tales from whalers about sperm whales they'd found floating dead on the surface, their slick gray skin mottled by the wagon wheelâsized suction cups of giant squids. It was said that the big bulls especially liked to battle the giant squids, sought them out even, just to show them who was boss of the sea. How the old whalers knew that, Josh wasn't certain, but he liked to believe it was true. What he knew for certain was that ambergris seemed to be the result of the sperm whale's diet, since usually the gunk was found wrapped around squid beaks. The theory went that ambergris was a protective coating formed in the whale's guts.
Josh observed a towering mass of bones stacked up inside sea-carved rock alcoves. Storms had flushed them there, he supposed. He approached one of the towers and marveled at its height, at least sixty feet. The bones were jumbled but fixed perfectly against one another so they created a rigid structure. Josh touched a long rib that protruded from the base, discreetly pulled on it, and found it solidly wedged. He peered into the mix of bones, to see if ambergris had perhaps collected in the sand below. Seeing nothing, Josh walked around the edge of the tower. He found only teeth, sprinkled like seeds from a ghostly tree of bones.
He walked along the cliff that formed the beach until he came to a second alcove of bones. This stack wasn't as high as the first one, but still impressive. It seemed to have attracted jaw and skull bones. His nose caught a dank odor, and he looked behind a vertebra and spied what he'd been looking for, a fist-sized lump of ambergris. An arm's reach inside the base of the stack, just below a jawbone empty of teeth, he saw another. He carefully inserted his arm under it and clutched the spongy stuff, slowly withdrawing both lumps. But when his arm accidentally touched a bone, he felt the entire structure shudder, then begin to wobble. A huge skull fell from the top, and he barely dodged it. Then another bone fell, and Josh knew the whole impossible structure was going to topple. Clutching his treasure, he ran for safety, all the while yelling at Rose and the children to get clear.
The tower of bones swayed, then fell over, hitting the sand with a tremendous clatter. Bones flew in all directions, ricocheting off one another and
hurtling into the air. Finally, when the last bone had struck the beach and tumbled to a stop, Josh picked his way through the skeletal parts and saw, with some relief, Rose, huddled with the children, standing in the water some distance away. “What are you doing, husband?” she demanded.
“Look!” Josh said, holding up his lumps of ambergris. He hurried over and thrust them toward her.
Rose turned up her nose. “More whale spit.”
“Do you know what these are worth?” Josh demanded. “I bet I could get a thousand dollars for each of them.”
Rose's nose remained in the air. “And what would you do with these two thousand dollars?”
“Why, I would buy” Josh stopped and thought about what he could buy and concluded there wasn't much he wanted or needed, other than what he already had. “I don't know. Something,” he said. “I mean if you ever needed anything, or the kids.”
Rose frowned, then shook her head. “Silly man. We don't need anything. Throw that away. Let the gods have it to roll around on the beach.”
Josh looked at the ambergris and then, shrugging, tossed the two lumps aside. “You're right, Rose. Anyway, we've had ourselves a splendid adventure.”
She released the children, who raced to the scattered bones of the fallen tower, shrieking with laughter. Soon they were tossing teeth around, bouncing them off the ribs with glee. Josh and Rose sat down and watched the children and listened to the wind play a song through the bones of the great whales. “This is good,” he said, pondering the empty line of the far horizon. “This is very good.”
“Yes,” Rose answered.
“I'm a happy man, Rose.”
“Of course,” she said as if to be otherwise were the most foolish thing in the world.
It was on the way back, halfway up the path that took them to the top of the cliff, that Josh, sensing something amiss, scanned the sea. In a moment, he saw it. “Dammitohell,” he breathed.
“What is it?” she asked nervously.
“A Japanese barge, Rose. Likely out of Ruka. I told Bosun 'Neal they were here and he wouldn't believe me. Now here's proof.”
“Are they here to attack us?” she asked, pulling the children close.
Josh peered at the barge, tiny and gray in the distance. “I don't think so. They're going away from the village. Probably just sniffing around, maybe looking for an alternative landing site. They won't find a good one.”
“What shall we do?”
Josh put his hand on Rose's arm, then patted Manda's head, and next pretended to cuff Turu on his ear. The boy grinned up at him. “We'll go back to the village and let Bosun 'Neal know what we've seen. I just hope he's got that cable strung.”
And so they did, although along the way Josh studied some rocks on the final ridge before entering the last leg of the path to the village. He climbed up to them and, as he hoped, was gratified to find a cave. It was small and a bit damp, but it would serve his purpose. He called Rose up to inspect it. “This is a good place for you to hide should the Japanese attack. I will stock dried fish and water here.”
“I would not run away without you, husband,” Rose declared.
“You will do as I tell you,” Josh insisted. Then he softened his tone. “I only want what's best for you and your children.”
“Our
children,” she replied in a firm voice.
When Josh nodded, she slipped into his arms. He felt her shudder and wondered if she had a premonition of what lay before them. “It's going to be all right, Rose,” he whispered.
She pulled away. “It is a good idea, this cave,” she said, and then, together, they went back to their children.
“Here it is,” Ready said, his open hand toward the big tree. “Your house, Sister.”
Sister Mary Kathleen, who was well aware that Bosun 'Neal had continued to build even after she forbade it, and who had even sneaked around at night beneath the bright moon to see what he was building, followed his gesture to a lovely treehouse. Even though she was theoretically against the enterprise, she could not help the pure delight that suffused her at the sight of it. But then she forced her expression to change and deliberately turned down her mouth. “But why, when I told ye not to, did ye still build it?” she demanded. She shook her head. “I am not worthy of yer feelings for me, Bosun. I keep telling ye that. When will ye understand?”
Ready forced a laugh. “Oh, Sister, that's not the situation at all. In fact, I think I will very soon take up with a local woman.”
Her expression registered the shock she felt. “Oh? And who would that be, now?”
Ready maintained a crooked smile. “Well, I don't know. I guess I haven't decided yet. But don't fret about me being in love with you or anything like that. That's all past, Sister. I just built this house for the fun of it, don't you see? Every boy dreams of building a treehouse. I didn't get a chance when I grew up on Killakeet, and now I have! I hope you like it. It's crude, just a bunch of bamboo and boards, but maybe you can spend some happy time here. I mean to accomplish your prayers and your teaching plans, say.”
Sister Mary Kathleen considered Ready's little speech. She wanted to accept the little house in the tree, she really did, for it was truly lovely, but what would the bosun think if she accepted his house? Would it only reinforce his
hopeless cause, the one she knew he had not truly put aside, that of winning her heart? “Thank ye, Bosun, but I cannot accept it,” she firmly answered and turned away.
“Then it will remain empty,” Ready replied with a hint of anger. “Or one of the islanders can have it. I don't care.”
When she said nothing, he summoned his courage, and then asked, “Sister, what happened to you on Ruka?”
She faced him. “Why do ye want to know?”
“Because I must defend this island.”
“Then defend it. I saw you today with the fella boys putting in place a cable across the lagoon. I knew instantly it was to stop a large boat from entering. What a fine idea!”
“It was Captain Thurlow's.”
“Then it is a surprisingly intelligent one. Is he still angry with ye?”
“Yes. In fact, I think he'd like to kill me.”
“Ready, ye have done a wonderful job. The captain knows that, deep in his heart. He will forgive ye. I'm certain of it.”
Ready realized she had changed the subject. “Sister, if we are attacked, it is because Colonel Yoshu wants you. And, the way I see it, he must want you because of something that took place on Ruka. Don't you see it's only fair I know what happened? It might help me to figure out the way he thinks and better prepare for him.”
She shook her head. “Colonel Yoshu needs no excuse to murder. That's all ye need to know.”
“Let me tell you what I think,” Ready said. “Tell me if I'm wrong. I think this mad colonel wants you back simply because he is angry that you got away. That is what I think.”
She studied him. “I cannot stop you from thinking.”
“Am I near the truth?” he asked.
“Near enough,” she answered.
“Then it's settled. I will never ask you about it again. May I show you your house?”
“I have already said I cannot accept it.”
“Yes, you can. And you will.”
She smiled. “Ye are a true 'Neal. A stubborn people ye are.”
She allowed Ready to lead her toward the stairs that wound around the tree. “Ladies first, if you please,” he bowed.
“I will look at it, no more,” she conceded, but her voice betrayed her, filled as it was with the delight she felt.
As he escorted her up the staircase, the bosun was like an excited boy, jabbering about all that he'd accomplished. She put her hands to her mouth as she looked at the beautiful, spacious living area. Then Ready, a little embarrassed, showed her the bed he'd constructed for her of breadfruit wood and hemp, and the mattress he'd stuffed with feathers and kapok.
“ 'Tis a wonder,” she told him, sitting on the bed and feeling its softness. She had not slept on a soft bed since â¦well, she did not like to think about that.
“I think you would be happy here, Sister,” Ready said.
She shook her head. “Such a gift. Ye understand that if I accept, Bosun, I must pay ye somehow.”
“Just call me Ready instead of Bosun. That's my only price.”
“Yes, of course. Ready O'Neal. 'Tis a fine name. For a fine man.”
Then he left her, left her in
her
house, left her to lean against the ledge of her window that faced the sea and toward the other islands, Ruka somewhere in the distance, obscured by the clouds on the horizon, and the miles, and time itself. Yet nothing could obscure what was there. “Are ye there?” she asked over the miles and time. “Are ye really still there?”
Then she heard the scrape of Ready's fiddle. The song he played was winsome and lonely and sad. “What is it?” she called, for she knew he could hear her. His house was not far away.
The music stopped. “ 'Shenandoah,' ” he called back, his voice like an echo.
“ 'Tis a glorious tune. Was it written by an Irishman? It must be, so sad and beautiful as it is.”
“I don't know, Sister, but it's being played by one.”
And so Ready played on, and Sister Mary Kathleen, enchanted, sat down in her house, her lovely little house in the arms of the great tree, and was happy.
Her happiness didn't last long. The fiddle scraped its last note, and then she heard Captain Thurlow's booming voice, and then Bosun 'Neal said something, clearly an angry retort. The men argued on, and though she couldn't hear what was said, she knew instinctively it was about Colonel Yoshu and the danger he represented to the captain's family and to the village. She looked to heaven, then dropped her face into her hands. Would the nightmare never end?