∨ The Beach ∧

36

Jed

Jed wouldn’t let me wake Étienne and Françoise. They’d asked me to say goodbye before I left, but Jed shook his head and said, ‘Unnecessary.’ I stood over their sleeping bodies, wondering what he meant. He’d woken me five minutes earlier by putting his hand over my mouth and whispering, ‘Shh,’ so close to my ear that his beard had brushed my cheek. I’d thought that had been pretty unnecessary myself.

I thought his knife was unnecessary too. It appeared as we stood on the beach, getting ready for the swim to the seaward cliffs, a green-handled lock-knife with a Teflon-coated blade.

‘What’s that for?’ I asked.

‘It’s a tool,’ he replied, matter of factly. Then he winked and added, ‘Sinister, huh?’ before wading into the water with the knife between his teeth.

Until the Rice Run, Jed was a mystery to me. The most time we’d ever spent together had been on my first day, when he’d escorted us from the waterfall. After that we’d had almost no contact. Sometimes I saw him in the evenings – never earlier, because he returned to the camp so late – and small talk had always been the extent of our conversations. Normally, small talk is enough for me to form an opinion on someone. I make quick judgements, often completely wrong, and then stick by them rigidly. But with Jed I’d made an exception and kept an open mind. This was mainly due to conflicting accounts of his character. Unhygienix liked him, and Keaty thought he was a prat.

‘We were sitting on the beach,’ Keaty had once said, his forehead creased up with irritation, ‘and there was this noise from the jungle. A coconut falling off a tree or something. A crack. So Jed suddenly stiffened up and did this little glance over his shoulder, like he was some finely tuned commando. Like he couldn’t help his own reflexes.’

I nodded. ‘He wanted you to notice.’

‘Exactly. He wanted us to notice how fucking alert he is.’ Keaty laughed and shook his head, then launched into a familiar diatribe about how crap if was to work in the garden.

But Unhygienix liked Jed. Sometimes I’d needed the toilet late at night and found them still awake, sitting by the kitchen hut, getting stoned on grass nicked from the dope plantations. And if Unhygienix liked Jed, he couldn’t be all bad.

There were three caves that led into the seaward cliffs. One was at the base of the jagged fissure, by the coral gardens, another was maybe two hundred metres to the right of the fissure, and the last was maybe fifty metres to the left. That was the one we swam for.

It was a good swim. The water was cool and cleared the morning haze out of my head. I spent most of the time underwater, watching fish scatter, wondering which ones might end up as today’s lunch. It was strange that there were always so many fish in the lagoon. We must have been pulling out thirty a day, but the numbers never seemed to go down.

Dawn was breaking by the time we reached the cave. We couldn’t see the sun yet – the east was blocked by the cliffs as they curved around to rejoin the island – but the sky was bright.

‘You know this place?’ Jed asked.

‘I’ve seen it while I’ve been working.’

‘But you’ve never been through.’

‘No. I went up to the coral gardens once and saw the cave there…Beneath the fissure.’

‘But you’ve never been through,’ he repeated.

‘No.’

He looked disapproving. ‘You should have. Golden rule: first thing to do when you arrive some place is find out how you can get out again. These caves are the only ways out of the lagoon.’

I shrugged. ‘Oh…So is that how you get above the waterfall?’

‘See here.’ He walked into the entrance of the cave and pointed directly upwards. Bizarrely, in the blackness, I could see a fist-sized circle of blue, and as my eyes adjusted to the light I made out a rope, hanging the length of the shaft.

‘It’s a chimney. You can climb it without the rope, but the rope makes it easier.’

‘And then you can walk around the cliff tops, back to the island.’

‘Exactly. Want to try?’

‘Sure,’ I said quickly. I had the idea he was testing me.

Jed raised his eyebrows. ‘Uh-huh. An adventurous type. I had you down for something else.’

That annoyed me. ‘I found this place, and what’s the big deal about climbing up the…’

He cut me off. ‘Maybe this place found you,’ he said, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. Then suddenly he smiled. ‘I’m taking the piss, Richard. Sorry. Anyway, we don’t have time now. The journey will take four hours at least.’

I checked my watch. It was almost seven. ‘So our ETA is eleven hundred hours.’

‘Eleven hundred hours…’ He chuckled and patted me on the arm, lapsing into an American accent. ‘ETAs, FNGs. You’re my kinda guy.’

Keaty had met Sal and Bugs in Chiang Rai. They’d gone on an illegal trek together over the Burmese border, and after the trek was over Sal had asked him if he was interested in being taken to paradise.

Gregorio had met Daffy in Sumatra. Gregorio had been beaten up and robbed, and when Daffy found him he was trying to hitch his way to Jakarta so he could contact the Spanish Embassy. Daffy had offered him cash to get to Java. Gregorio had been reluctant to accept, because he could see Daffy was short of money himself. Daffy had said ‘Fuck Java,’ and told him about the beach.

Sal had been on an eighteen-hour bus ride with Ella. Ella had a portable backgammon set.

Daffy had heard Cassie asking for a job in a Patpong bar.

Unhygienix had cooked Bugs a six-course meal on a houseboat in Srinagar, starting with hot coconut soup and ending with a mango split.

Moshe had caught a Manilan pickpocket trying to razor Daffy’s backpack.

Bugs had worked with Jean, grape-picking in Blenheim, New Zealand.

Jed…

Jed had just turned up. Jumped from the waterfall, walked into the camp with a canvas overnight bag and a soaking wet bushel of grass under his arm.

Keaty said the camp had been thrown into instant panic. Was he alone, how had he learnt about the beach, were there more with him, more coming? Everyone ran around going crazy, then Sal, Bugs and Daffy turned up. They took him into the longhouse to talk while everyone waited outside. People heard Daffy shouting and Bugs trying to calm him down.

The cliffs were about thirty metres thick, but you couldn’t see through them to the open sea because, not far in, the roof of the cave dropped below the water-level. I wasn’t happy about swimming into the blackness but Jed assured me the roof rose up again quickly. ‘It’s a piece of piss,’ he said. ‘You’re up again before you know it.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. It’s low tide so we only have to swim half the cave. When it’s high tide you have to swim the whole cave in one go, and even that’s easy.’ Then he took a deep breath and slipped under, leaving me alone.

I waited a minute, treading water and listening to my splashes echo round the walls. My feet and shins were cold, kicking in the chilled area, reminding me of the diving game off Ko Samui. ‘Put me down as the adventurous type,’ I said loudly. It was supposed to be a joke, something to give me courage, and in a way I suppose it worked. The echo spooked me so much that the inky water seemed less scary than hanging around.

Jed had only worked on an official work detail, carpentry, for six days. Then he’d been taken off and started doing his ‘missions crap’, as Keaty put it, above the waterfall.

People talked about it at first. They thought he ought to be working and were irritated that Sal, Bugs and Daffy refused to explain why he was allowed to do his own thing. But time passed, and as Jed’s face became more familiar they stopped asking questions. The main thing was that no other travellers appeared immediately after him, which had been everyone’s fear, and he brought in a steady supply of grass, previously a luxury in short supply.

Keaty had a theory. Because Jed hadn’t been recruited he was an unknown quantity, and therefore, if he decided to leave, a danger to the camp’s secrecy. So when Sal had realized Jed was the type who was into missions, she created one just to keep him happy.

Personally, I thought the theory was unlikely. Whatever Jed was doing, it was what Sal wanted him to be doing. Diplomacy wouldn’t have entered into it.

Unusually for me, I kept my eyes shut as I swam, feeling my way along the cave roof with outstretched hands and only using my legs. I guessed that each kick made a metre and carefully counted my strokes to give me a sense of distance. After I’d counted ten I began to feel worried. An ache was building in my lungs, and Jed had been adamant that the underwater passage was no more than a forty-second swim. At fifteen I realized I had to make a decision about whether to turn back. I gave myself a limit of three more kicks, then my fingertips broke surface.

I knew there was something wrong as soon as I took a breath. The air was foul. So bad that even though I was bursting for oxygen, I could only manage short breaths before I started gagging. Instinctively, pointlessly, I looked around me, but the absence of light was so absolute that I couldn’t see my fingers an inch from my face.

‘Jed!’ I called.

Not even an echo.

I reached up and my hand sank deep into something wet, with freezing tendrils that clung to my skin. A jolt of adrenalin rushed through my body and I snatched my hand back.

‘It’s seaweed,’ I whispered, after my heart had stopped smashing into my eardrums. Seaweed, coating the rock, absorbing the noise.

I gagged again. Then I retched, pushing up a mouthful of vomit.

‘Jed…’

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