“A little girl with my brown skin and your red hair, perhaps I shall let her even have your silly straight nose. And we will put drops of lime juice in her eyes when she is born, then feed her on coconut milk, and my milk. And fried shark's liver to give her vitamins so she will grow up tall and strong, like us, like all island people. Your American magazines, the fuss they make over these vitamins—-about which we here have known for hundreds of years. Ray, we must make lots of babies. The islands are wonderful places for children.”
“Guess they are,” I said, cautiously.
“You guess?” Ruita repeated, nibbling at my cheek. “They are! Children are loved here. A child can move in with any family and be raised with love and care.”
It was true. If a girl had a baby “out of wedlock,” to use our cruel popaa phrase, the family next door would be only too glad to take it, no matter how many children of their own they had. In a place where there is plenty of food for the taking, “another mouth to feed” is hardly a problem. The child would be raised as the family's, even though the real mother might spend all her life less than two hundred yards away.
At the moment children were farthest from my mind, I didn't even want to think about not having them. Ruita and I held each other close; I holding the wheel with one hand or sometimes with my knees. The Hooker was sailing smoothly, sliding a little off-course now and then—but our course wasn't that exact. When Eddie took over my watch he usually took a long look at the sun or the stars, and immediately corrected the wheel with his crystal ball navigation.
Ruita slept for awhile in this cramped position, then she got up and rubbed her legs, told me, “I go below now. Sure you will not join me?”
“Yeah, I'm sure, and you know why. I'll sleep out here. Look, do me a favor and put some water on to boil.”
“You want tea?” she asked, starting for our tin “galley.”
“I'm going to shave.”
She laughed, the sound soft and full against the slapping sound of the waves cutting across our bow. “No, Ray, don't shave. I like that rough stubble on your face, even when it hurts me. Also the way you are a nice brown all over, except around your middle, where you are white as a shark's belly. In Forliga we shall bathe in the sun together and then you will be brown all over like me. Good night, my Ray.”
She gave me a quick kiss and went to her bunk below. I sat at the wheel, hearing the sound of the waves and staring at the stars, listening to the faint wind... and not seeing or hearing a damn thing. I was in a numbed state of contentment, not trying to think of anything ... yet a number of vague, sly, thoughts were strolling through the back of my mind. Like: even if I ran out on Ruita later, tonight was worth it, for both of us, worth my being a rat. Or: I was suddenly amused by Nancy Adams being within a few feet from where I was sleeping with her daughter.
Eddie was standing in front of me, yawning and stretching. He glanced at the moon, said, “Must be after midnight. Why didn't you wake me?”
“No rush. How soon will we start closing in on the atolls?”
“Early in the morning. Where's Ruita?”
“Below.”
“You go to her. I can hold the wheel till morning and then the old woman can handle the wheel for awhile.”
“I'm bedding down on the deck.”
“Alone?” I nodded.
“Hey, have a fight so soon?”
“Nope,” I said, walking toward the cabin roof. I heard Eddie mutter, “Jeez, you mean she has some of them wacky popaa ideas in her, too?”
I was full of deep inner exhaustion you can only get from one thing, and I slept as soon as I stretched out. I awoke to see Ruita sitting beside me, sitting so her body shaded the morning sun from my eyes. She was wearing a loose white blouse and red shorts, and against the sun I studied the perfect silhouette of her breasts. She had made a flower out of palm leaves and was wearing it over her right ear—she had a sweetheart.
As I sat up she turned and smiled, said, “Good morning, darling.”
“Hello, honey.”
We kissed and there was an exciting warm smell to her. For a moment she drove me crazy by flicking her tongue in my ear. I jumped to my feet, pulling her up, both of us grinning. On the port horizon we were passing a reef, and on the starboard side a school of porpoises were convoying the Hooker, gliding in and out of the water some thirty feet from us. Nancy was at the wheel with Eddie, both of them watching the big fish.
Ruita tossed a pail over the side and came up with it full of water, said, “For your bath.” I stripped to my shorts and emptied the pail of cool salt water over my head. She went down into the cabin and returned with another pair, helped me take my wet ones off, asked if I was hungry as I stood naked, waiting for the wind to dry me off. She was very casual and I was embarrassed because I was embarrassed. I suddenly reached over, kissed her, said I was starved. She brought me a drinking nut, a fried flying fish soaked in lime juice, and the last of our bananas.
I was dry and put on my shorts, went back to the wheel where Nancy was playing checkers with Eddie. The old woman gave her daughter a little hug and slipped me a big smile. There was something too pat about Nancy's approach to me—as though she had me tight in the son-in-law bag— which annoyed me.
Eddie told me to steer at right angles to a group of clouds on the horizon and I checked this on the compass, to find something I could call a course.
Eddie and Mrs. Adams went on with their checker game. Each square on the worn board had a hole and each checker a nail driven through it—so it would stay put in the wind. I wasn't much of a checker fan, but sometimes Eddie and I would go on a spree, play for several days, and then not use the board for months. The same with the torn deck of cards we had.
Ruita said she wanted to get a book out of her bag, stopping on the lower cabin steps—out of sight of the others —to blow a kiss at me.
A breeze came up and for awhile everything was quiet, except for the washing sound the Hooker made whenever she dipped into a wave trough. Mrs. Adams beat Eddie, as usual, then went over and sat by Ruita, neither of them speaking. Ruita was deep in her book but the old woman stared at me, weighing me with her eyes; evidently she found it all pleasing to her. I felt like a butterfly pinned under a glass and for a wild moment wondered if Ruita wasn't in on the “plot” too— although that didn't make any sense, because if she merely wanted a man or a husband she could have her pick.
Eddie pointed up at several black frigate birds wheeling overhead, said, “We must be near the bigger atolls. Ugly birds.”
“Young ones make good eating,” Nancy said. “Taste like chicken. Did you know these atolls were first sighted by a Portuguese explorer named...” The blank look swept over her old face. Ruita said quickly, “Momma, you sound as if there weren't people living on the Tuamotus until Quiros saw them.”
“Louise, you know I didn't mean it that way.” Nancy turned to me. “Do you like the atolls, Ray?”
“Guess so. And birds.” I nodded at the frigate birds soaring in the blue sky. “Isn't it something—the feeling of freedom they give? Free to go anyplace they wish?” It was pretty cornball, but the old lady got it; her eyes turned very solemn.