The Beach

'I know there has been some difficulty between us,' he continued. 'Some difficulty between us, yes?'

I shrugged.

'Please, Richard. I would be very happy if we could talk about this. We should not be this way. Not at this time…'

'What time is that?'

'Before…' Etienne swallowed awkwardly. 'Before Tet. Sal wants all difficulties to be over for Tet. A new start for the new year… Everybody else in the camp has forgotten their arguments. Keaty and Bugs even. So… I thought we should talk about our problem and make friends again… I thought we should talk about when you kissed Francoise…'

It was funny. My world was falling to pieces, everything in my life revolved around threat, and my nerves were shot to shit. But hearing that Etienne was still worried about the kiss with Francoise made me feel like laughing out loud.

'That is the problem, no? It is because of my reaction. My stupid reaction. Really, it was all my fault. I am very sorry that…'

'Etienne, what the hell are you talking about?'

'…The kiss.'

'The kiss.' I glanced up at the sky. 'Fuck the kiss. And fuck all that crap about Tet and Sal, too. I know how much you care about Tet.'

'I care about Tet!' he exclaimed, very alarmed. 'Of course, I care very much! I am working very hard to make sure tha…'

'Bullshit,' I interrupted.

Etienne stood up, making as if he was going to dive back into the water. 'I have to get back to the fishing detail now. I only wanted to apologize so that now we can be friends and…'

I caught his elbow and dragged him back down. 'Jesus! What's the matter with you?'

'Nothing! Richard, I only wanted to apologize! Please, now I must get back to…'

'Etienne, will you cut it out? You're acting like I'm the fucking Gestapo!'

He went very silent.

'What?' I shouted. 'What is it?'

He still wouldn't reply, but looked extremely worried.

'Say something!'

After at least a half-minute, Etienne cleared his throat. 'Richard, I want to speak to you, but… I do not know…'

'You don't know what?'

He took a deep breath. 'I do not know if it is… safe.'

'Safe? '

'I… I understand Sal has not been happy with me…'

I dropped my head into my hands. 'Christ,' I muttered. 'You do think I'm the Gestapo.'

'I think you… do things. You do things for Sal. Everybody knows…'

'Everybody knows?'

'Today, you were looking for Karl…' 'What does everybody know?' 'Where is Karl, Richard? Did you catch him?' I closed my eyes against a wave of nausea. 'Is he dead now?'

Everyone knew I did things for Sal. Everyone talked about it. They just didn't talk about it in front of me.

Etienne might have continued speaking, asking what I'd done with Karl, but I can't be sure because I wasn't really listening. My head was filling up. I was remembering the way Cassie had looked at me when I'd let Bugs slip and slide in his shit. And the way a consensus of silence could drop as fast as an Asian rainstorm, and Jean nervously asking me on a date, and unmentioned gunshots. Unnoticed Christo dying in the death tent, Sten's funeral forgotten in half a day, Karl forgotten on a beach.

Except now, suddenly, not forgotten on a beach after all. Deliberately avoided to provide me with a discreet window of opportunity. A space for me to do the things I do for Sal.

God knows what those weeks since the food poisoning had been like for Etienne. It's impossible for me to put myself in his shoes, working through how he must have interpreted the events around him. I know because I've tried. The nearest I got was while I was sitting with him in the empty cove, and I've never been close since.

Ultimately, I've only got one reliable touchstone to his experience. The scene that followed Karl running through the clearing with me on his tail. The moment when Francoise strode away from him, distancing herself from the liability that he'd become, ignoring his outstretched arms. I'd give a lot to know what she'd said to him later. But obviously it was enough for him to realize that once Karl was out of the way, he might be next.

'Etienne,' I said, hearing my voice from far away. 'Would you like to go home?'

He didn't seem to reply for a long time. 'You mean… the camp?'

'I mean home.'

'…Not the camp?'

'Not the camp.'

'Not…'

'Leaving the beach. France for you and Francoise, England for me.'

I turned to face him, and was immediately hit by a second rush of sickness. It was the expression on his face, hiding his hope so badly. 'It's all right,' I murmured and reached out, intending to pat his shoulder for reassurance. But as soon as I moved, he recoiled.

'Don't worry,' I said. 'Everything will be OK. We're going to leave tonight.'

Efforts

I was a fool. I was kidding myself. As the idea of leaving had come into my head, another idea had sneaked inside with it. That maybe this was the way it could all end up. Not in some VC dope-guard attack and a panic-stricken evacuation from the clearing, but with a simple demobilization of forces. After all, this was the way Vietnam had ended for a lot of US soldiers. Most US soldiers. Statistics were on my side, I'd have played by Mister Duck's rules, and I'd be out in one piece.

I could not have been more wrong, but that was the way I was thinking. Full of hasty schemes and plans, and the fucked-up optimism that comes from desperation.

I wasn't bothered by the practicalities of leaving. It would have been easier if Karl hadn't taken the boat, but we still had the raft. If that was gone, we'd swim. We were all much fitter than we had been and I had no doubts we could do it again. So with transportation out of the way, the only other complication was food and water. But water could be solved with water bottles and catching fish was our speciality. All in all, the practicalities weren't worth more than passing consideration. I had much more serious things on my mind, like who we'd take with us.

Francoise was the first to sort out. She was standing two boulders over from mine, one hand loosely resting on her thigh and the other pressed to her lips. Etienne stood in front of her, talking rapidly, too quiet for the sound to carry.

Their conversation became increasingly animated. Intense enough for me to start worrying that Gregorio would notice there was some kind of problem. He was in the water, closer to me than them, diving with Keaty. But just as I began to contemplate ways I might distract Greg's attention, the exchange abruptly ended. Francoise looked over at me with wide eyes. Etienne said something urgent, and she quickly turned back. Then Etienne threw a quick nod in my direction, and that was that. I knew she'd agreed to leave.

It was a big relief. I'd been completely unable to predict how she'd react, and worryingly, so had Etienne. He'd said that it would all depend on whether she put the beach above her love for him. A close call, judging by the way things had been going, and we both knew it.

But however close the Francoise call was, it was a lot more straightforward than the other two names on our list: Jed and Keaty. Or my list, I should say, because Etienne didn't want to take either of them. I could see his point—if we only had to take Francoise, we could almost have left at once. We could have been above the cliffs and on our way to the raft within sixty minutes. But over the months of my beach life, I'd done enough to keep me in nightmares for the next twenty years. I didn't want to add to my sentence now. Jed and Keaty had been my best two friends on the beach, and even if it was risky – particularly with Keaty – I couldn't disappear without offering them the chance to come too.