He watched the coastline slip by. There were beaches fringed with mangroves in some places, in other places it was rocky and a boat without power would be dashed to pieces by the surf. Behind Wreck Reef, the sea was calmer. They headed to the first pot and began to draw it, working in silence. Lloyd remembered the story of the dolphins leading Gramps through the dangerous coral heads of Wreck Reef and he was angry at his grandfather for telling him such tales. There were no miracles.
The fishing was poor and Maas Roxton’s traps held very little of value. “Sea gettin up,” he said. “Time to call it a day.” His catch would not pay for the fuel to take Lloyd home. They left the Hellshire coast and headed for Kingston Harbour. When they entered the Harbour, Maas Roxton opened the throttle and Testament raced across the sea. They passed the Coast Guard base. Surrey was not at anchor.
“You fish at Pedro?” Lloyd asked Maas Roxton over the noise of the engine.
“Yeah, sometime. Fish-nin much better than ’round here, but is a long boat ride.”
“Suppose somebody hurt Gramps. Suppose him in the sea. Him swim good, you know. Where him could wash up out there, where nobody would find him?”
“Bwoy, Lloydie, you head tough like a dry coconut. Three cays on Pedro—Top, Middle, and Bird Cay. Man live on Top and Middle—you know that. Nowhere to hide there.”
“What about Bird Cay?”
“Nobody live there, but you can see it easy, and fishers go there all the time. Although, mark you, now Bird Cay is in the fish sanctuary and nobody not supposed to be over there except the wardens.”
“Maybe Gramps is there then.”
“Lloydie, if him is on Bird Cay, and him stand on the beach and wave him hand, everybody see him. Him can’t be there. If him is there, him is dead.”
“Nowhere else on Pedro him could be?” Lloyd saw the cranes of Gordon Cay and the power plant and the refinery and the tall buildings of downtown Kingston ahead. He saw the fishing boats gathered at the old sewage plant outfalls. He was nearly home.
“Well, I suppose a man could drift to Portland Rock, but him can’t survive there, not for long. No shade, no water, nuttn but bird nastiness.”
“Where is Portland Rock?”
“Pedro. Two hour from Middle Cay. In the north. Depend where him did go into the sea as to whether him could end up there.”
Lloyd had never heard of Portland Rock. “What it look like?”
“Me only go there once. Is just a rock sticking outta the sea. What you want me tell you? Is a big rock. Sharp. Easy to cut you. Nuff bird and crab. If it rain, water collect in the hole in the rock. Me think the bird like that. Windward side rough as hell.”
“Nobody is there?”
“Sometime fishers camp out there. Them don’t stay long. No fresh water, like me say. Only one place a boat can land. Water pretty, though—blue and deep and clean. Nuff shark too. That’s another thing. How a man could swim through the whole heap of shark?”
“Me going look,” said Lloyd.
Maas Roxton cut the engine and they glided onto Gray Pond beach. “Lloydie, what me must do with you?” he said. Lloyd said nothing. They faced each other, the old man with his hand still on the tiller and the boy sitting astride one of the thwarts. Maas Roxton sighed. “Awright. Is on you own head. Better you look for Black Crab than go Portland Rock. You no see the sky? Storm a come. Crab hang out at a bar name Shotta near Newport West. Maybe him feel sorry for a yout’. Me hope so, anyway.”
“Thanks, Maas Roxton. Me have to try.”
“Take these two parrot fish for Miss Beryl, youngster. Take them. Me want you to eat good tonight. Me sorry . . .” His voice trailed off.
“You know anybody will take me to Portland Rock?” Lloyd said.
Maas Roxton sighed. “You going search the whole sea, Lloydie?”
“He could be there.”
“Eleven days on a rock inna the sea. No food? No water?”
“If it rain, why not? If bird and crab is there, why not? Maybe fishers leave a tent.” Lloyd stopped. “You ever see dolphins out there?”
“You and the blasted dolphins. Me never see them the day me go, but fisher talk about them out there.”
“Plenty a them?”
“Me no know, Lloydie. What a crosses! Anyway, me done. Me tell you what me know. Me sure Conrad is dead. That’s it. You stay away from all the dolphin business or you be the next one nobody know what happen to. You get between a man and his bread, somebody go get hurt. Tell Miss Beryl how-de-do, awright?”
“Ee-hee. Thanks, Maas Roxton.” Lloyd watched the old man stumble across the sand. Gramps was old, but he was strong; stronger than his friend. Lloyd was sure he could have climbed up onto Portland Rock. He would find his way to the rock in the sea, but not until he had spoken to Black Crab. He would ask Dwight to go with him to find the bar called Shotta near to Newport West.
I think this is my eleventh day on Portland Rock, but I am no longer sure. The rock pools are empty of water now. The plastic bottle is quarter full. There is not a single sea snail near to me. I should have eaten the ones farther away when I was stronger. I am afraid to stand again. Soon I will not be able to crawl. I am no longer hungry but my thirst burns and burns. I live in my memories;
