a compartment in the belly of the chopper and began hefting out air tanks, complaining that they were the reason the bird was so sluggish. Jessica hadn't noticed a moment's sluggishness in the aircraft, and had in fact thought it capable of duplicating any aviary movement without the slightest awkwardness.
“ When's somebody going to invent a lightweight air tank that's affordable?” the pilot continued, lamenting aloud for no one in particular.
The air strip, built for the heavy commercial chopper traffic that buzzed about the islands, was deserted this time of night. “Make a lot better time for Kahului without all the weight,” Parry assured the pilot, slipping him a hefty tip. “And thanks, Lee.”
“ You give a holler when you want me back,” he replied. “And I hope you'll enjoy lovely Hana and her waters. I'll see your bags go on to the inn.”
“ The inn,” she repeated for Jim's benefit. “Hmmmm, you do plan carefully, don't you?” And for the first time since seeing the Spout, she realized that the charter was in fact a commercial deal, not FBI issue after all. This then refueled her earlier suspicion that Parry was doing something counter to his own best interest here.
Tugging him away from the pilot, she said, “James Parry, you're disobeying orders, aren't you?”
“ What the hell're you talking about now?” he replied. “Come on, we've got to set up a tent and build a fire on the beach.”
She frowned and scowled and stared at the departing helicopter as it lifted, leaving them in the wilderness of Hawaii, quite alone on their own private black sand beach.
“ I've always wanted to walk on a black sand beach,” she admitted, “but I want to know just what we're doing here, Jim. This is an unauthorized campaign, isn't it?”
“ I can see there's no keeping a secret from you.” He hefted as much of the equipment as he could carry. “Grab a tank, and follow me down to the beach. I'll explain along the way.”
She hefted two tanks.
“ Hey, take it easy. We're going to have to make two trips regardless, so…”
“ Just move out and show me the way, and thanks for insisting I wear jeans.” He shook his head, smiled and moved out ahead of her toward the winding little footpath that would take them to the ocean edge and its volcanic, exotic black sand, which, in the approaching night, sparkled as if some magical stardust had been sprinkled by island angels, the jeweled flakes blinking under the moon. A sparkling gift of the sea.
'Talk about mixing business with pleasure,” she called out to him as he moved along the footpath to the richly colored volcanic beach.
“ Be careful where you step along here,” he bluntly cautioned.
“ Why? What're we afraid of? Scorpions, snakes, iguanas, what?”
She could hear the softly cushioned roar of the ocean as it rose up to meet them, as if it were lulling the world with some eternal hymn. A shaggy, unkempt grove of pandanus trees lined their way, each tree looking like an old man trying to get up the cliff, each bent from the effects of the ocean wind on their woody bodies. The ground was spongy with rotted palm fronds, and all around them the spiny, saw-toothed foliage crackled and tore at her with a disturbing and eerie wind giving it life. For a moment, seeing Jim ahead of her, the cane cutter strapped to his hip, she felt a mild but compelling wave of fear rush in to her.
“ Careful!” he shouted, and pointed at obstacles in their way, lashing out from time to time with the cane cutter, swiping away at vines and saw-toothed leaves. “Puka!” he next shouted. “Large enough to swallow you whole. Careful!”
“ What? What're you saying, Jim?”
“ Watch out for these!”
She peered down at his feet to see a strange hole large enough for either of them to slip through; it appeared to spiral to a bottomless cavern.
“ Puka, it's called. Volcanic hole carved out of lava,” he explained. “I'd hoped to get here before dark.”
“ I can see why.”
After several minutes of steady, rhythmic hacking with the cane knife, Jim stepped into a surprising and unblemished clearing, into which she quickly followed. This unimpeded area the size of a ballfield was neatly divided by ancient stones covered with spongy moss picked up by the beam of her flashlight. The clearing was bracketed by rows of slender, tall coconut trees acting as silent sentinels here, their plumed tops tilting to the wind, which seemed a refreshing but eerily constant force. She saw evidence of a graveyard in the distance and a marsh and stream beyond. A cluster of stunted kamani trees hung low over the setting. Behind this swampy area there was an impenetrable wall of hau trees that stretched back into the valley.
“ We're almost there,” said Jim.
“ What is this place?” she asked, feeling it had a sense of haunting.
“ Just a clearing.”
“ It's more than that.”
“ Well, legend has it there was once a village here, part of the Wailanos people, whose beneficent deity was the lizard. They were mostly fishermen.”
“ Really? I sensed there was something about this place.” She imagined the simple life that had once gone on here, the sound of babies crying, of women pounding poi or beating tapa, of men telling tales as they repaired nets and others working shark tooth and shell into a lei. She pictured old women bathing their babies in the nearby surf. She could even hear the laughter of the children in the tidal pools… but then she realized what it must be that she was hearing: the rushing surge of the sea and its counterpoint, the outgoing flow, that timeless heartbeat of the ocean.
Still, if any place on earth harbored spirits, she sensed them here, felt them blowing lightly over her hair and down her neck. She'd felt a similar sensation once as a child, stepping lightly through a deserted cemetery. Her curiosity about headstones and what they said had gotten the best of her even as a young girl, and it had grown with age into what some considered a morbid hobby, which put off a lot of gentlemen callers along with her profession. Still, visiting old cemeteries and studying what was written on ancient headstones had always held a fascination for her. She'd taken vacation tours in New England just to get to the oldest cemeteries in the land, and one day she hoped to get to see some of the oldest in Europe, Great Britain and Ireland. She told Jim this, and added, “Just feels like we're being watched, you know.”
“ Hey, come daylight, if you want to check for headstones, you'll find 'em here but no markings,” he said. “For now, let's trudge on, huh?”
“ You're reading my mind now, Parry.”
“ Let's just say I'm beginning to learn.”
They continued on. “Just how often have you brought women here, Jim?”
“ Don't do this, Jess.”
“ Do what?”
“ See what I mean?” he asked without looking back.
“ No, I don't see what you mean.”
“ Your damned FBI training takes over once more.”
“ That's a nasty thing to say,” she replied with a tinge of indignity.”It's better than saying you're too suspicious.”
“ Well, you don't deny that you've been here before, and if you've been here before, a place like this, you don't come alone, now do you?”
“ All right… all right. You're the second, if you want the truth.”
“ I want the truth.”
“ But I've never dived here with anyone.”
“ Diving doesn't look safe here. Not a place for the islander dive shops to bring their charges.”
“ You got that right.”
“ Whataya mean? No one dives here?”
“ No.” He turned and stared long into her eyes. “We'll be the first.”
“ A virgin dive. That'd be something to take home. But this place… it's kind of a spooky, Jim,” she observed. “I mean it's really desolate. If anything should happen down below…”
“ This location can be reached from the Hana Highway.”
