“Okay, what about them?” I asked. This was his pitch— he needed a boat.
“Suppose we take over one of them, build a thatched hut? I put Heru there with flowers in her hair, some tapa bark cloth around her hips. We stock up plenty of food, let Eddie act like a nat... an islander. Perhaps we will cut in another tone and vahine. You see the package?”
Eddie and I shook our heads like puppets.
Henri waved a fat hand in the air, sweat rolled down his neck, onto his dirty collar. “Sometimes I believe I am the only man in Tahiti with a head for business! Now listen to me: instead of hustling these tourists for a few lousy francs, I pick out a man who has money. I get into a conversation with him at a bar, and off-hand I mention I know of an unknown island, so small no whites ever bothered with it.
On this island there is a beautiful vahine who it is said longs to see a nice popaa, all for free, of course. I say I wish I wasn't married here in Papeete, or I would surely go for this beautiful and lonely girl. The sucker bites, wants to know if it is possible for him to go there in the few days he has in port. I inform him it is possible in a small boat, that in truth I happen to know of a boat for charter—yours. We start off modestly, we charge the man three hundred American dollars. Are you interested?”
“What's the rest of this sales talk?” Eddie asked.
Henri waved the fat hand again. “Mon Dieu, can you not see it?”
I shrugged and Dubon said, “You are both blind! Once the man is on this boat, the money paid in advance of course, we sail out to sea and at night we cut back, so our sucker believes we have been sailing all night. Maybe we are only two dozen miles from here, say at the other end of Tahiti, off Point Puha. The exact spot we shall have to hunt for with care. But we land in the morning and Heru welcomes him as the great popaa god. Eddie cooks a big meal, a whole roasted pig and many fruits. Maybe we even hire some fool to drum and dance. Heru and Eddie are delighted with gifts of beads and other crap. The man has been fed well, and at night Heru will take care of his other appetites. The following day we sail, return to Papeete in the morning. Our tourist is most happy. At last he has seen the real South Seas, found a lovely princess madly in love with him. He will be the hero of all the cafe gossip back in his home town. Paradise in a package! This has many angles. Now, you like the idea?”
“Nobody would be dummy enough to fall for a set-up like that,” Eddie said.
“Yes, they would,” I said. “World is full of island-happy dreamers.” I almost added, “I know!”
“So what you think?” Henri asked impatiently.
“I don't like the idea, but what's our cut?” Eddie asked, re-lighting the stub of his cigar.
“Half. You will supply the boat and the food. I find the sucker, toss in Heru and what other... islanders we need. On the Post Office bulletin board there is an announcement of a round-the-world cruise ship putting into Papeete next week. She will remain four days. That is our chance.”
Eddie fingered his prune-ear and flattened nose. “Won't my puss make the joker suspicious?” .
“We have to be careful about speaking English or French. As for your face, we can tell him you really are a Lion Face... no, that would frighten him. Don't worry—with Heru around why should he worry about your face?” Dubon turned to me. “You have not made a comment, Ray.”
I belched several times by way of an answer. I felt a little better—the deal wasn't too far-fetched. Our cut would be a hundred and fifty bucks, more than we cleared on a cargo. Of course this would put us in Henri's class, kind of panders by accessory. But with seventy-five bucks I could bring Ruita something decent—even a real wedding ring. I told myself maybe that was the thing troubling me. I felt like a poor relation, a kept man; she had everything.
Dubon said, “Why the silence?”
“I'm thinking,” I said.
He stood up and pulled a wad of money from his pants pocket, peeled off a thousand franc note, said, “Perhaps this will seal our deal.”
I glanced at Eddie. He nodded. “That will bind it for Ray, but for me—maybe I'll go over and see Heru now. One partner talking to another.”
“You are welcome to her,” Henri began. “I will—”
“I didn't ask you if I would be welcome or not.”
Henri handed me the money, got his magazine and briefcase together, straightened his greasy hat as he said, “In a day or so we shall find our hunk of paradise and prepare things. Come, Eddie, I shall take you to Heru.”
As Eddie stood up, Dubon took his arm. Eddie pushed him away. “I can find her myself.” As they walked off the cutter Eddie called over his shoulder, “Save a bottle for me, Ray.”
I didn't run off the ship and buy a bottle—right away. I sat on the cabin, a little excited about the deal. Maybe I could make the Hooker a part of a real sightseeing business, daily cruise around Tahiti? Hell, I was only helping Heru make some folding money—if she gave it all to Henri that was her business. And if the tourists were looking for that, it really didn't make any difference where they found it. There was talk of more cruise ships, tourist planes, stopping at Papeete, this could be the start of a real business; I could settle down in Papeete with Ruita, be a big man in the islands.
The idea was full of holes—I didn't want to be a big man, Ruita hated Papeete. Also there was no point in kidding myself, I was pimping. Without arguing about it, I decided I was going through with the deal. That decided, I went ashore and bought a litre of rum, got properly juiced.
Two days later, with Dubon and Heru aboard, we pulled anchor, went hunting for our islet. Although we were leaving port we didn't bother stopping at customs. The Papeete gossip already was broadcasting our plan and customs knew we weren't doing any trading on this trip. Henri was in a bad mood; he had wanted Heru to stay ashore and tend to her regulars, but she hadn't been sailing since she came to Papeete, and like all atoll people, she loved boats.
Eddie wasn't in a bright mood either. The night before he had been against the whole idea, saying it made him feel crummy. I'd told him, “But we've spent Dubon's francs.”
“Let him whistle up his nose for it. So he put on a show with his knife, slashing that nut open—a shiv don't mean nothing to me.”
“No, we've committed ourselves, we're in it,” I'd said, and somehow the whole messy idea fascinated me—as if I was punishing myself for being such a jerk with Ruita.
We sailed around Tahiti's tail end, which sticks out like a clam neck, with a number of coral heads long ago fertilized by bird droppings and seeds till palm trees and brush had sprung up. But there were too many villages on the mainland, not to mention a car scooting along Boom Road now and then.
We sailed around Moorea, whose jagged mountains made the sunsets as seen from Papeete so terrific. We found a tiny island which would do, but it was impossible to bring the boat up close, and I wasn't risking the Hooker for any seventy-five bucks. We decided to try the island of Huahine, which is about eighty miles from Tahiti—a six-hour sail for a fast boat.