“‘What goes?’ I ask the kid. And he explains that because I am a god the dames are most frightened that I will destroy them. Then the squirt starts bawling himself, and I am beginning to feel very low indeed, as I can see that the little guy has taken my god action and it is six to five that he thinks he is on the destruction express along with the dames, and some explanation and consolation are
then needed to caulk the kid’s waterworks and generally ease his mind.
“So I sits down with the kid under the wing of the Sky Priestess and by and by along comes an old native guy with a jug of the local hooch, of which I am somewhat dubious and which tastes like matchheads mixed with dishwater but smooths out considerably after the first four or five belts, and soon the mood becomes most festive and a good time is had by all (except for Sparky, who is bending over the runway looking at everything he drinks for the second time).
“Now all of this time I am thinking that the kid is running a game on me about being chief until he explains that the Japs killed his father and his older brother as examples and he is next in line, so he is chief whether he likes it or not. And now he is worried that his people will not have enough to eat, as the Japs have taken most of the fruit and coconuts and destroyed all the canoes and cargo, like rice, which the late Father Rodriquez brings in, and my heart is breaking for the kid, who should be playing stickball and stealing candy and other assorted kid activities instead of worrying about a whole population of citizens. So I look at my guys eating all the food the kid gives us, and my heart is feeling very heavy indeed, so I tell him not to worry, as Vincent and the Sky Priestess will see that his people get everything they need and I gives the kid a pack of Luckys and my Zippo to seal the promise. Then, as soon as Sparky finishes doing the rainbow yawn, I tells him to get on the radio to a friend of mine who is in the quartermaster corps, and I gives him a list of things to place on the PT boat which is coming to get us.
“So as the evening wears on, the kid is telling me stories of how the island was made by a dame from Yap who rides on a turtle with a basketful of dirt which she dumps in the ocean, making the island, which must have been quite some basket, and she tells all the children she is having on the island (although the kid says nothing about her having an old man) that she isn’t going to give them a good reef for fishing, so they are going to be eating sharks. And although the people of all the other islands are afraid of sharks, here the sharks are afraid of the people. ‘They will be called the Shark People,’ the dame with the dirt says.
“And I says, ‘Yeah, I know that dame.’ That, in fact, I take her to the races one day and she is such good luck that I win the trifecta for five Gs. And I can see the kid is most impressed, even though he wouldn’t know a G from a G-string. So I begins to lay it on a bit
thick and by the time we have consumed all of the local bug juice and most of the fruit and fish, the kid is convinced that if I am not the Second Coming, I am at least pinch-hitting that day.
“By now I am feeling I am in serious need of female company and I mention this to the kid, who says maybe there is something he can do, as there is one doll in the village whose job it is to change the oil of the unmar-ried native guys (I am at once reminded of a costume optional dancer named Chintzy Bilouski, who performs a similar service for myself and many other unmarried male citizens in the Broadway district) and it seems that this native doll has been short of work of late, as all of the young un-married guys are either killed or taken away. And the kid says he will ap-proach this doll on my behalf if I promise that she will not burst into flames or be otherwise harmed and as long as I keep it quiet. As these are similar terms I agree to with Chintzy Bilouski (and a sawbuck cheaper, in fact), I tell the kid to lead the way, which he does. And soon we are in a big grass house by the beach, which he calls the bachelors’ house, and which is clearly intended to house many citizens, but is currently only the home of one doll, who is by no means hard on the peepers and who proceeds immedi-ately to catch up on any work she has been missing in a most enthusiastic and friendly manner, if you know what I mean.
“So, to make a long story short, the guys and I spend three more days telling stories to the kid and drinking bug juice and creeping to the bachel-ors’ house until the PT boat shows with some mechanics and welders and all the supplies I have requested from my pal the quartermaster. And the islanders all line up while I pass out many machetes and knives and chocolate bars and various other luxuries from Uncle Sam. And that night they throw a big party in my honor with much drinking and dancing and a swell time is had by one and all. But as we are ready to leave, the kid chief comes up all leaky-eyed, asking why am I leaving and will I come back and what will his people do without me. So I promise him I will be back soon with many wonderful things and to save me a spot in the bach-elors’ house, but until then, every time he sees a plane, he and his people will know that me and the Sky Priestess are looking out for them.
“Then when we are back at base I am working something with the colonel to run a recon mission to inspect the airstrip for emergency use. No bombs. I am thinking we will fill the Sky Priestess up with medicine and supplies for the Shark kid and his people as soon as permission comes through. And I’m fully intending to come
through, as I gives the kid my word and he believes it, but how am I to know that on our very next bombing run a squadron of Zeros will surprise us and fill the Sky Priestess with all manner of cannon and machine gun slugs, sending us down in a ball of flames and killing me and everyone aboard quite dead.”
The guy with the beard cleared his throat and said, “That was a swell story the first dozen times we heard it, Vinnie, but are you going to talk or play cards?”
“Bite me, Jewboy, it ain’t like we haven’t had to fight the yawns through your loaves and fishes epic a hundred fuckin’ times.” Then Vincent flashed him a feral grin. “And since it is now your bet, I will advise you to fold, as I am now holding a hand that is so hot it is about to burst into flames like the proverbial bush.”
The guy with the beard held up a punctured palm to silence Vincent. “You’re holding a pair of eights, Vinnie.”
“I hate fuckin’ playing with you,” Vincent said.
25
We Ask the Gods for Answers and They Give us Questions
Tucker Case heard the beating of wings above his head and suddenly there was a familiar little face in front of him. Roberto was hanging upside down from the harness ropes around Tuck’s chest. He never thought he’d be glad to see the little vermin.
“Roberto! Buddy!” Tuck smiled at the bat.
Roberto squeaked and bent forward to lick Tucker’s face.
Tucker sputtered. He could smell papaya on the bat’s breath.
“How about climbing up there and gnawing through these ropes, little guy?”
Roberto looked at him quizzically, then laid a big lick on him, right across the lips.
“Ack! Bat spit!”
Tuck heard a weak voice from above. “He no gnaw rope. His teeth too little,” Kimi said.
Roberto took flight and landed on Kimi’s head and began licking and clawing him ecstatically.
Kimi was suspended about two feet above Tucker and about five feet away. It hurt his neck, but he could see the navigator dangling if he stretched. “You’re alive!” Tucker said. “I thought you were dead.”
“I am bery thirsty. Why you put us in tree?”
“I didn’t. It was an old island guy. I think he’s going to eat us.”
“No, no, no. No cannibal in these islands for many years.”