They walked among the sweet, pink sailors when they landed, those sailors who were feeling the hard earth under their toes for the first time in so long, yes, they walked among them without apprehension, all peacefulness and openness. Welcoming. And the sailors, barely believing their luck, seeing these gentle creatures so real and trusting among them, raised their clubs and brought them down hard. Harder still. Killed them. Ate them. Extinguished them.
No scruples, Louis said. No bloody scruples.
And now there are no longer sixty types of flightless bird, some up to half a ton in weight. No. Now there are none. They are all gone.
You come from that place, Louis screamed, and theres no point in denying it. You cant arrive in these jungles and behave like nothing has happened. History. You cant come here and act like you arent the thing you are. You exist on the back of all this slaughter. You are its product. You are its prize, its very reason.
So that was his basic point, Ronny. I am a success simply because Im alive. I come from that stock, Louis said, the stock which survived all the wars and the plagues and the hardships. I am a success because I exist. My body is the product of all those previous equations. If life was a sum, my scrappy white torso this sad, pale shell, this wracked thing would be the answer to it.
Imagine!
Thats such a responsibility, Ronny, dont you think?
But naturally I didnt take it all lying down. (Although I was in my bunk. He keeps waking me and making me talk. In the night. Late. In the morning, early.)
I didnt take it prone because it made no real sense. I said, Its really not like that, Louis. Its a fluke. You got your logic wrong. You got your sums wrong. Youre doing it back to front. The fact that I exist doesnt mean anything. My existence is a question, not an answer. Its a joke, a mystery, a shot in the dark.
You cant be one of them, Louis sneered, no matter how hard you try. You stick out. This whole environment is disgusted by you. By your white face and your thin arms, your long hair, your broken nails
A jangling. Ronny looked up. He closed the letter, gathered all the others into a bundle, rose from the bed and walked towards it.
The phone was ringing in the hallway. It rang and rang.
Hello?
It was in his hand and he was speaking.
Hello? he repeated.
James?
A voice, surprised. Off-balance.
Ronny paused, then answered.
No. Ronny. Its Ronny.
Another pause.
Its me. Its Nathan. Where are you?
Nathan? Oh
Ronny began smiling. UhIs it about the watch?
The watch? Nathan echoed. Another pause.
No. Im sorry. Im confusedIn factin fact I was actually hoping to speak to Constance. To Connie.
Right. Ronnys voice became hollow.
Is she there?
No. Shes with Jim.
But
Almost panic. Confusion. Ronny ignored it and pulled at the zip on the wedding dress with his free hand.
I cant really speak right now, he said softly. He was aching.
Ronny?
Then he smiled.
You know his voice was so gentle I somehow thought youd rung for me.
Ronny?
But I was wrong to think that. I was wrong.
He hung up.
Thirty-Four
Tell me again how you found it.
Luke was so pleased to have the camera back. Once it was gone hed started to labour under the misapprehension that its absence symbolized something.
I dont know. I just happened across it.
Sara was a poor liar. And the excitement of what might yet occur was bubbling up within her.
Inside the hide?
Underneath. But Im certain it didnt come to any harm.
He was inspecting it. It looks just fine. He paused, frowning.
What?
The films been used. I didnt take any shots myself, at least I dont remember taking any
Will you develop them?
Sara was biting her lip.
Uh. I dont know
Maybe you should.
Luke stared into Saras face. It was so full of activity. It was burgeoning. It was beautiful.
You want me to?
Yes. Its exciting, dont you think?
But itll take a while.
Take as long as you want.
Sara sat down on Lukes sofa and wrapped her arms around herself.
Lily felt like some kind of flimsy vapour walking among all these city folk, these brightly coloured, purposeful, brusque, shoving, thumping, pumping people. She became suddenly aware of her own slightness. She knew where she wanted to go but nothing seemed to want to take her there. She had ten pounds to spend. A ticket inspector told her to buy a One-Day Travelcard. Two zones. She did as hed instructed, but suspiciously.
Finally, she found her way to Baker Street. Her cheek kept bleeding. Her blood was like water. No substance. No texture. She held her shirt cuff against her cheek. The cotton was already tight with plasma. Then she followed the signs to the Lost Property Office.
Shed arrived, finally. But it was late. Almost one. And the bus back left in only an hour. She pushed the door open and walked in. There were too many people. Two women and a man behind counters, and others, like herself, waiting for service. She nearly panicked but then she remembered how Ronny had specified that the person hed dealt with was male, not female, so she avoided the queue and instead walked straight on over to the man in the payment cubicle.
Someone in the queue called out to her and then a woman on the counter told her that she needed to go around the other way if she wanted serving. But Lily, her one wrist jammed against her cheek, pushed her other hand flat down on to the counter and stared intently into the mans eyes.
Ive come for Ronny, she said, above all the confusion and disgruntlement, about the beast.
The man seemed confounded. This is a payment cubicle, he said. To make a claim youll have to fill in a form and then see one of my colleagues.
He pointed and then paused. Are you hurt?
No. No. Like I said, Ive come for Ronny.
But his name seemed to spur no sense of recognition. None whatsoever.
Nathan had requested sick leave. He was feeling sick. It was almost a fever. Everything opening wide, inside him. Thats what hed said.
Sounds like flu, theyd responded, youd better take a week.
Hed collected his coat and was preparing to go. He was in the toilet, staring at his reflection, straightening his collar, when a colleague entered.
Dont come near me, Nathan croaked, hoping to create an atmosphere of legitimacy, I might be infectious.
The colleague smiled. No more infectious, he said, than this crazy girl who was just at my counter, dripping blood and ranting on about The Beast.
What?
The colleague smiled. No more infectious, he said, than this crazy girl who was just at my counter, dripping blood and ranting on about The Beast.
What?
Nathan chuckled.
But The Beast wasnt actually hers, you understand. It belonged to her friend, Ronny. It was Ronnys beast. Hed wrapped it up in a cardboard box and then dropped it off here for safekeeping
Nathan stopped smiling.
Is she still out there?
No. She just left
The man turned around as he spoke, but Nathan had already pushed on past him.
Lily was walking towards the escalator, thoroughly humiliated. The world was too big, she told herself. Someone should have warned her. Nathan actually nearly knocked her over. He backed into her. Hed been scanning faces, frantically, hoping to recognize someone, something. Lily staggered and then turned to face him. Her cheek was dripping.
Is it you? Nathan panted, seeing the blood. Did you come for Ronny?
It is me, Lily mumbled, almost crying with relief, it is me. And Im lost and I think I might be about to miss my bus.
Nathan put his hand into his pocket and drew out a hanker-chief.
Here. Dont worry.
Lily took it. He led her slowly towards the escalator.
Im Nathan, he said gently, youre all right now. Ill look after you.
He was developing in the bathroom. He had all the equipment The red light, the washes, the paper, the dark blind for the window. Slowly, slowly, the images rose out of the whiteness; a wide smirk of black and grey shadows staining the papers pale face.
First off, uhhe turned the picture up the other wayyesa cup. An old mug. In full focus. That was all. Then a table. Some tarpaulin. A giant creature which almost made him squeal with hair and horns, all tuskyNext, a piece of wood, polished. A banister?
Luke smiled to himself. Should he stop? Wasnt he wasting paper here? But he thought of Sara, sitting on his sofa, full of anticipation, and resolved to continue.
The next image made him tut. A toilet seat. Down. And then, a cloud? Something great and uninteresting and whitea pillow? And after. After? He squinted. Jesus Christ. His hands felt numb and heavy as he continued developing.
Ronny sat on a small hillock, surrounded by the letters. He was reading and reading. Hed been crying. It was me, he kept saying, it was me. It was me. Hiding all the while, keeping myself safe and disguised until no one could possibly see who I was. But it was me.
Hed pulled off his shoes. His long, pale feet were cushioned in the grass, grey with dirt, big toeless, like great dusty fins, or flippers. He inspected them as if they were some kind of irrefutable evidence.
He felt so sorry for Monica and the trouble shed been through. He felt such a profound understanding. Her love of all the things she couldnt see. The desolation. The lack of belonging. The endless, pointless investing.
You feel very close at this moment. Is that stupid? Are you near me? Are you out there, hiding in the jungle, watching, waiting, but I just cant see you? Is it me whos dense or is it the forest? Is it me?
The letters werent dated. But were they in some semblance of order? How did they unravel? Ronny rubbed at his eyes, which were red and sore, not from crying, he decided, but for some other reason. Maybe the sun. Maybe the pills hed taken. He rubbed them again, harder, and then he hunted for the next letter in the pile. He craved a conclusion. He had to establish himself, within. Right now. Inside. He had to locate her. He stroked the letter. He drew a deep breath. He squinted. He opened it.
I had a dream.
Ronny? Am I writing? I think I am. Am I waking? Am I sleeping? Will this thing get through to you?
I had a dream about Louis and the white ape. Tell me if you think Im going crazy. I had a dream. I was lying on a table. Or a camp bed, but high off the ground. And I was wearing an old nightshirt which kept shifting. It was too small. A childs shirt. And I was surrounded by people. All looking and staring.