Page 31 of The Beach Holiday
I headed past women who were spilling out from camp and were almost on the beach themselves. Contemplating walking, but getting caught up in last-minute chatter. It still amazed me how relaxed this place was. Besides the no phones rule, there were no rules. Everyone just got on with what needed to be done and for most of the day and evening there was this general sense of contentment, that people were happy with the simplicitythat they had created for themselves and that intrigued me. The mornings were the best here for me; every day I woke and couldn’t believe how lucky I was to be here. The sound of the cockerels first thing, the simple sounds of the camp coming to life, the smell of the fire pit, the scent of warm skin all around me. It was paradise. There was no other way to describe it.
But despite all of those wonderful things there was an underlying buzz of discontentment, a flurry in my tummy, as my parents used to call it when I was little and I sat up late at night worrying about things that I couldn’t control. I couldn’t stop thinking about Clara. About where she was and how she was. It had been too long. I wanted more than anything to go and find out for myself.
I stopped walking and turned suddenly. I had heard the sound of a twig breaking just behind me. Had it come from the foliage around me? The sky was now pitch-black but full of stars and a bright moon lit the pathway and guided me towards the beach. I turned back around and carried on walking. I had been jumpy at the sounds of the forest around me before. I had nothing to fear here; it was probably a cow moving about or a hen that had lost its way back to the pen at dusk. But the snapping came again, and I swung round faster and as I did, this time I caught sight of a small figure just before it disappeared into the bushes.
21
THEN
My blood ran cold for a second, then I reminded myself that I was on an island with many other women and I could shout at any moment, and someone would come running. I had nothing to fear. This was probably one of the children who had escaped the clutches of their mother at bedtime and was now trying to prank me.
‘Okay, come on out little one.’ I held my cool, the kava in my system giving me confidence.
‘I know you’re in there. Please come out.’
I heard a rustle then another twig snapping then a small bare foot appeared. Next, a small torso and then a head. Of what appeared to be a small boy of about five or six. I had only seen the one boy here before and the girl. This child also had dark hair and piercing dark eyes to match. Who was he and why hadn’t I seen him before now?
‘Hello,’ I spoke. ‘I’m Sadie. What’s your name?’
He just smiled inanely.
‘Are you lost?’ I asked.
The little boy looked at me, sniggered and then scuttled back into the bushes again.
I stood there looking at the empty spot where he had just been and wondered if I had imagined the whole thing. The kava was well and truly doing its job; my veins tingled, and I felt small bursts of euphoria and so I laughed out loud at the absurdity of it. How had I not yet seen this boy already? He must have stayed hidden away; maybe he was more feral than the others. He certainly seemed it the way he jumped into that bush like a gazelle. I turned back to the path to the beach and kept walking until my feet were no longer on dusty earth, but pure white sand, and the sound of the waves were immediately lulling me into a meditative state. I really didn’t need anything else but this.
I wondered how long I could be happy here for and live with so many unanswered questions. I had my reservations – that was for sure. There was happiness and contentedness here, but there was something else, lingering in between each sunrise and sunset. I could align it to the general lack of interest over Clara’s injury for example, or the way Kali looked at me, and refused to hug me like all the women had, or maybe even the absence of men. I had seen no hysteria over Clara’s injury, instead an acceptance for what it was. Kali didn’t stand around the fire and tell her tale to the group, revelling in the drama and attention. No one spoke of it or questioned it the next day and no one had mentioned it since. It was only because I had asked that I was given an update. Perhaps their emotions had numbed, but it felt too pragmatic to me. Maybe it was one I would adopt over time and I wasn’t sure I wanted that.
There was a sense that they had all slid into a state of obscurity here and that they had, whether consciously or unconsciously, adopted a new set of life rules. Some might feel threatened by it, scared even. I wasn’t sure how I felt yet, but I was aware of it.
The next morning I took my usual route from the cabin to the front beach to listen to the sounds of the waves greeting me and I sat and absorbed the negative ions, to set me up for the day. It was the last thing I had heard last night and the first thing I would hear this morning. It was usually the two mothers I saw when I woke as they were already up with their youngsters. No sign of the little boy from last night though. Had I imagined him?
I approached the first mother first. Her name was Star. She told me that wasn’t the name her parents had given her at birth, but when she came to Totini she gave herself a new name and everyone had called her that for years. It backed up my theory about them having their own set of rules here, and how anything was possible.
‘Morning,’ I said as I approached her.
‘How are you today?’ She smiled. I wasn’t sure what her accent was. It sounded a mix of South African and Australian, and I guessed she was the sort of woman who had travelled a lot in her time. She was still young-looking. A rash of freckles adorned her cheeks and nose, but I would have said she was older than me by seven or eight years.
‘I’m well, thank you. Hey, I was walking last night, and I stumbled across a young boy.’ I was sure I saw Star’s lips pursed suddenly and momentarily. ‘Anyway, I wasn’t sure if I was imagining him what with the tiredness and kava—’
‘You didn’t imagine him,’ Star said seriously. ‘He lives here, mainly in the forest areas. We leave food out for him to collect. He drinks from one of the rain barrels.’
‘But whose son is he?’ I pressed.
‘His name is Adi. His mother abandoned him.’
‘Adi. That’s so sad.’
Star nodded. ‘He won’t let any one of us near him. Hester and I, we’ve tried to mother him, make him one of our own, but he has problems, learning behaviours, social issues.’
‘Neurodivergent,’ I said recognising her descriptions.
Star shrugged. ‘Who knows. There’s no one here to diagnose him and he never lets any one of us near him for long enough. How was he when you saw him? I haven’t seen him for a few days.’
‘He was sweet. He stood in front of me and smiled. Then ran away.’
‘He smiled? Wow, that’s more than I’ve ever got out of him. He must have liked you.’
