The Beach

‘Phosphorescence. And it’s got a joint.’

‘Ah.’ Jesse waggled his pencil at me. ‘Phosphorescence!’

‘What is it?’

‘You don’t know?’

‘…No.’

He smiled. ‘Go down to the beach. You’ll see. And make sure you smoke that joint on the way.’

? The Beach ?

59

Phosphorescence

I walked along the path to the beach as fast as I could, which wasn’t that fast because I didn’t want to bump into any tree-trunks or stub my foot on a root. At the same time I smoked the joint, practically hit and running it even though I was alone, because I felt like getting wasted and because Keaty had told me to smoke it quick.

Meanwhile I seethed about the papayas, and pretty soon I was very stoned and deeply involved in a fantasy about beating up Bugs. In its earliest form the fantasy started off as just me and him, but soon I decided I needed an audience to bear witness to his humiliation. I added Francoise, then Jed and Keaty, then Etienne and Greg, and eventually the whole camp.

¦

It was a Sunday. It had to be a Sunday, because that was the only time you got the whole camp in one place. Most people were kicking a ball around, a few were swimming, and a few were playing Frisbee. I was standing with Francoise. We were sharing a joke when Bugs appeared from the tree-line with Sal, and three big papayas cradled in his arms. ‘Got some more papayas,’ he called. ‘Enough for everyone.’

‘Excuse me,’ I said quietly to Francoise. ‘Won’t be a moment.’ He caught my eye as I strode towards him and did a double-take, recognizing the purposeful nature of my step and the grim set of my mouth. First he looked alarmed, then arrogant. He was going to bluff it out, I realized.

‘Yes,’ he said loudly, holding up the fruit for all to see, and still watching me from the corner of his eye. ‘Here are some more papayas that I found.’

I stopped a metre away from him. ‘Papayas that you found, Bugs?’

‘That’s what I said.’

‘Uh-huh. Then how about we take a walk down to the orchard…right now.’

His eyebrows flicked upwards.’…Now?’

‘Now. And I’ll show you the joint butt I left, when I found the orchard no less than two weeks ago!’

Everyone gasped, including Sal. A crowd had formed a circle around us and Francoise had come running over to stand by my side. ‘Is this true?’ she demanded angrily.

Bugs scoffed. ‘Of course not! He’s lying! I found the orchard!’

‘So how about that walk?’

‘I don’t have to prove myself to you!’

‘I think you do.’

‘Up yours. I found the orchard. End of story.’

I smiled. ‘You know what, Bugs…?’ The silence was deathly, aside from the gentle lapping of the waves on the shore. ‘You’re kinda buggin’ me!’

The crowd laughed and Bugs’ face twisted with rage. ‘Is that right?’ he sneered. ‘Well take this!’ A papaya hurtled towards my head but I ducked and it flew past me into the crowd.

‘Hey!’ someone yelled. ‘Watch it!’

Bugs swore and made as if he was about to throw another, but quick as a flash I grabbed the Frisbee from Cassie, who was standing beside me, and hurled it with lethal accuracy. The papaya exploded at the impact. The remaining chunks slithered from his hand and fell to the sand, harmless.

‘Why you…’ he started to say, but I was already on him. I faked with a left and floored him with a right. He dropped like a sack of potatoes.

Now he was scared. ‘I’m thorry,’ he yelped, holding a hand up to cup the blood splashing from his busted lips, ‘lt’th true! I didn’t find the papayath! Richard did!’

Slowly I bent down and picked the Frisbee up again, pausing to wipe away a few shreds of pulped papaya flesh. ‘Too late for that, Bugs,’ I muttered softly, almost kindly. ‘Too late…’

He screamed but didn’t move, paralysed with fear like a rabbit in headlights. The Frisbee shot down and connected squarely with the bridge of his nose, shattering the bone. Then he rolled on to his side and scrabbled weakly at the sand, trying to crawl away. I kicked him on the back of the head and gave him four hard punches in the kidney.

He whimpered. ‘Pleathe,’ he said. ‘Don’t.’

A bad choice of words. My temper rose. Looking around me I spotted a fishing spear.

‘Rewind,’ I said, taking the last drag from the joint. ‘Can’t do that.’ I sucked until the tips of my fingers burned, then threw away the roach and rewound back to my first punch.

I faked with a left and floored him with a right. He dropped like a sack of potatoes.

‘I’m thorry,’ he yelped, ‘lt’th true! I didn’t find the papayath!’

‘Say that again!’ I shouted, looming over him with the Frisbee poised.

‘I didn’t find them! You did! I’m thorry!’

‘Louder!’

‘You found the papayath!’

I nodded curtly, and turned to Francoise. ‘Just wanted to set the record straight.’

She glanced down at Bugs’ twitching figure. ‘Of course,’ she said briefly.

‘You want to swim out to the coral garden?’

‘Yes, Richard,’ she breathed, interlocking her arm with mine. ‘I would love to.’

¦

The fantasy might have happily continued from there, but the dead leaves and dirt under my feet had become sand. I’d reached the beach.

It took me ages to find Keaty and the others. Even with the moonlight I couldn’t see them, and their laughter seemed to come from everywhere, spread evenly over the water and faintly echoing off the cliffs. But after twenty minutes of stoned wandering along the shore I finally pinned them down to a group of small boulders, a hundred metres out.

As I couldn’t see them and they couldn’t see me, I decided there wasn’t much sense in calling out, so I slipped off my T–shirt and began swimming towards them. Gradually their figures became discernible in the darkness. They were all standing and bending over to look downwards into the water. Then – at roughly the moment I must have become visible to them – their laughter abruptly cut off, and as I got closer I saw that they had all turned to face my direction. ‘Hey!’ I said, finding their watchful silence a little eerie. ‘What’s up?’ They didn’t answer. I continued swimming and repeated the question, irrationally thinking they might not have heard me. When they didn’t answer again I stopped, treading water ten feet from the boulder. ‘Why aren’t you answering me?’ I said, puzzled.

‘Look down,’ Keaty replied after a moment or two.

I paused, then looked. The water was as black as ink, except for where the moonlight caught the ripples. ‘…What’s to see?’

‘He is too close,’ I heard Etienne say.

‘No,’ said Keaty. ‘Richard, move your hands, just under the surface.’

‘OK…’ I did as he said. From the boulder I heard Francoise sigh, but I still couldn’t see anything past the blackness. ‘I don’t get it…What’s this about?’

‘Too close,’ Etienne repeated.

Keaty’s silhouette scratched its head.’ Yeah, you’re right…Come up on to the boulder, Richard. Watch me