Island of Desire

"Drug use? Alcoholism? I know it can be a problem."

She shook her head. "No more than average. And a lot less than most. Oh, alcohol is easy to make, with so much fruit around. And some of the older men seem to spend half their time inventing new mixes." Her lips twisted. "Be very careful if one of them offers you a drink. It can knock you on your rear.

"Drugs? No. We had one damn fool come back from a year at Colorado State who tried to set up a meth lab a few years back. I think he watched too much TV when he was on the mainland. He was dealt with."

"How?"

"We ate him." She chewed a bite of fish contemplatively. "Did you know that human flesh tastes like pork? It's not too bad once you get used to it. And it serves as a deterrent to others who might have the same bright idea."

Brigid choked on her wine, then caught the evil gleam in her eye. "You did not!"

"No. We didn't. He was exiled to Bligh's Atoll for six months. When the boat came to pick him up, he would have done anything to be allowed back home. That long without human companionship makes a man grateful for company."

Connor wiped his mouth with a linen napkin. "So what about law enforcement? Jails?"

"Each island has its constable, but we don't have a jail, not as you think it. We've found that there are better ways." She smiled. "In such small communities, everyone knows everyone else. A thief would find it hard to hide what he had stolen. Exile works much better than incarceration. We don't often have repeat offenders."

While they talked, the swift tropical night had fallen. Outside the windows the sky was dark. Connor yawned once, then again, so wide he thought his jaw would crack. "I'm sorry," he said, as a sudden wave of weariness passed over him. "If I don't lay down, I'll fall down. I've got to go to bed." At his side, Brigid nodded bleary agreement.

Elenoa stood. "Then I won't trouble you again tonight. May you be granted sweet dreams and a night of gentle rest."

*****

The next morning, Brigid woke feeling wonderfully refreshed, the warm air flowing through the windows caressing her cheek like a lover, the cotton sheets on the bed sinfully light and luxurious. After her morning shower, she dressed and went downstairs in search of breakfast. There, she found Connor, sipping from a porcelain cup of coffee and looking at a series of topographical maps.

"Good morning, Governor von Brigidstein."

She ignored him, making a beeline for the coffeepot. As she took her first scalding sip, she sighed in relief. "What are your plans for the day?"

"I figured I'd do a recce around the area, see if I can take a look at some of the sites I was thinking about putting the arrays on, make sure they're suitable. Elenoa promised to bring her brother when she came back." As he spoke, Pelika bustled in with a tray of sliced fruit and a plate of astonishingly heavy dark bread, which, when sliced, was a curious purple color on the inside.

"Poi bread," she said to Brigid's inquiring glance. She spread butter on it and took a bite. Soon, the entire slice was gone. She nodded approval and saw the older woman's face lighten. Like Elenoa, she wore a pareu today, but hers reached higher on her torso, covering her breasts. She saw Brigid's glance and shook her head. "I cook. And I am not so foolish as to leave these unprotected," she said, gesturing at her chest. "If you ever get a grease burn down there, you will understand."

"We're here," came a cheerful voice. Brigid smiled to see how Connor's head immediately turned. Elenoa stood near the front door, accompanied by a tall man, obviously her brother. Her eyes widened in happy appreciation as she took in his impressive physique. His skin was a golden brown, accentuated by dark tattoos that ran from his shoulders to his biceps. Skillfully drawn, they were completely unlike anything she had ever seen before. Geometric shapes flowed in bands around his arms, merging with stylized animals. He was dressed only in a pair of cut-off trousers which ended just below the knee, sandals, and wide-brimmed hat. His eyes were dark and deep-set, and his hair, slightly curly, fell tumbling past his shoulders, knotted at the nape of his neck with a rawhide thong.

"This is my brother, Tahu. Tahu, meet Brigid and Connor Flaherty."

The young man nodded. His face gave away little. Brigid judged him to be several years younger than his sister. "Are you ready to go?" he asked, his gaze settling on Connor.

"In a minute." Connor slid his feet into a worn pair of tennis shoes. Otherwise, his ensemble included shorts, a t-shirt and (Brigid rolled her eyes) a disreputable Cubs fishing hat that had to be ten years old, if not more.

"No flannel?" she sniped.

"Nope." He grinned. "I wouldn't want to embarrass everyone here by flaunting how cool I am."

"Go on." She waved him towards the door. "Get to work. What am I paying you for, anyway?"

"Yes, your Supreme Governessitude." He gave her a mock-salute and walked out the door, his cheerful voice and Tahu's rumbling reply fading into the distance as they moved away up the path.

I'm going to get very tired of his governor jokes soon.

*****

Brigid sat down in her office, promptly at nine AM by the clock on the wall, and turned on her computer.

By nine forty-five, she was bored.

By ten-thirty, she was staring up at the slowly-revolving ceiling fan, hoping for something to break the tedium.

It was amazing, really. She had composed an e-mail to her nominal superior, the Secretary of the Department of the Interior, notifying him of their safe arrival and of Connor's plans. But, Washington being seven (or was it eight?) time zones ahead of her, it was unlikely she would have a response before the next morning. Or, considering it was Friday morning, (she had checked) she might not hear from anyone until Monday.

And what will he say? Congratulations on not crashing into the ocean?

In an ordinary day, back at her old job in Hungary, she would be busy; sometimes, overwhelmed. There was always some task that needed to be done, usually right away. A trade deal. A reception. A fact-finding mission from Congress. Businessmen from the States, hoping for preferential treatment. Sometimes, thrillingly, a presidential visit.

Here? Nothing.

She wandered out into the main body of the house. There, she found Kalele, cleaning up the remains of their breakfast. She was dressed in much the same fashion as Elenoa, although her pareu was much more subdued. Green and blue, it was easy on the eyes.

"Kalele?"

"Yes?" Her eyes were wide and wary. Brigid forced herself to smile.

"What did Governor Shaw...what did he do all day? Surely...surely his duties did not take up much of his time."

"Him?" Pelika bustled in from the kitchen. She snorted, the expression so like her mother's that Brigid was forced to smile. "He drank, mostly. Went crazy from boredom, poor man." She and Kalele shared a look.

"Drank?" That rigidly upright man?

Pelika nodded. "It went in cycles, as sure as the moon grows fat and full each month. First he'd come up with some mad scheme to bring people here from the mainland. Sport-fishing. Scuba diving. Parasailing. Extreme tourism. He'd be up all hours, trying to get someone in Washington to listen to him. We'd hear him, shouting on the telephone."

"And nothing would happen." Kalele's voice was soft. "He'd give up, and for a few weeks it would be nothing but the drink." Her lips thinned. "I don't know how many times I had to clean up his messes."

"And then the whole sad thing would start over again." Pelika's look was frank. "It's hard for your people. Too many of you seem to think you have to be doing something. Let me give you some advice, Governor. There is wisdom to be found in doing nothing."

"I didn't come here to do nothing." Her voice was a bit sharp.

Pelika shrugged. "Not nothing, then. But from what I hear, you only have one task, and that can't be hurried. Either find some other thing to occupy your hours, or you'll grow as mad as Governor Shaw."

After the conversation, she ate a lonely lunch, then forced herself back into the office. But her tedium was unexpectedly broken by the arrival of Elenoa, who bore a wicker basket over one arm and a pair of towels. "Brigid! I was hoping to find you here! How would you like to lay out on the beach with me?"

She looked guiltily at her laptop, which was currently engaged in a game of solitaire. "Well..."

One eyelid dropped in a wink, and the dark-haired woman said in a stage whisper, "I promise not to tell anyone. Besides," she continued in a more normal tone, "It'll be good for everyone else to see you. Not many people on the island have seen a white woman before, except on TV."

"Well, if would help people get used to me, I suppose I don't really have a choice, do I?"

Elenoa giggled, the expression making her seem like she was just out of high school. "Go on and change into something more appropriate. I'll have Pelika make us up some drinks."

*****

In a very few minutes, they were walking slowly down the path towards the beach. Brigid wore a dark green bikini, and found herself oddly gratified that it showed off her curves so well. She hadn't worn it since a trip to Ibiza, nearly a year ago.

To her right, she could see what seemed to be the main street of the village, with a few shops lining the side facing the sea. As the land rose towards the slopes of the mountain towards the east, she could glimpse small, neat houses on the slopes, their yards filled with small market-gardens and with washing, hung from clotheslines, fluttering in the ocean breeze.

They lay their towels down in the sand. Elenoa passed her a metal bottle and they lay back, luxuriating in the sun.

"It's so quiet," Brigid said, taking a sip of tart fruit juice. It was completely unlike a beach in Europe, or even Lake Michigan back home. There, the air would be split by the sounds of loud music, or the constant drone of airplanes or motorboats, or simply by the screaming cacophony of hundreds of people trying to enjoy themselves. Here, there were maybe a dozen individuals on the beach. Some older men and women sat in front of the shops, idly talking. In the lagoon, young men fished, throwing out nets into the water, but they were much too far away to be heard over the roll of the surf.

"It is," Elenoa replied. "I love it." She cracked open an eyelid and looked at her. "But if you do not put on some protection, my friend, your hair won't be the only red thing about you." She reached into the depths of her basket and produced a bottle of suntan lotion.

"It's this pale skin of mine," she complained, taking the bottle and squirting some into her palm. "I burn so easily. Then I look like some hideous monster, with my skin flaking off."

"You just need to get your body used to it. Spend a few years here and you'll have a lovely, permanent tan. And the things the sun will do to your hair! It will turn copper and ruby and gold. All the village will look at you."

"I'm surprised we haven't seen more people today."

"The children are in school. Although if we stay out here for more than an hour or two, we will see them. And they will be eager to meet you. And the younger women are either at home or in their gardens or at their jobs. But they will come out here to meet and gossip before too long as well."

"Hmmm." Brigid finished her front. With an apologetic look, she turned to Elenoa. "Do my back?"

"Certainly." The woman's fingers were strong and sure on her skin, rubbing in the lotion. To Brigid's vast relief, she didn't try to initiate any unwanted intimacy.

Once she was well-oiled, she lay back on the towel, content to soak in the sun. "God, this feels good. Less than two days ago I was knee-deep in snow. Now I'm here. It's almost magic."

"I've never seen snow. Not up close," Elenoa said lazily. "There was snow on Mauna Kea once when I was away at school. My friends tried to get me to go see it, but I stayed home. What's it like?"

"Cold. White. Wet when it melts. Pretty when it's falling, especially when you're snug at home, with a good book or a good lover." Brigid bit her lip.

"Do you have a lover now?" Her voice was politely curious.

"No."

"Pity. Everyone should have one. Perhaps the Three were waiting for you to come here, and will provide one for you."

"The Three?" She ignored the other implication.

Elenoa moved her shoulders, causing her breasts to ripple fetchingly. "It's what we call the three great deities, as opposed to the petty godlings who we also honor."

"Faumea, Mahuika, and Tanirongo," Brigid said, remembering the conversation of the night before.

"If you're not careful, my friend, you'll find that some of the women here will decide you're an avatar of Mahuika, and ask for your blessing. I doubt anyone here has ever seen hair like yours before. They will think you're the living incarnation of the Woman of Fire."

"Not me." Her lips curled in an unwilling smile. "When I was younger, some of my classmates called me Frigid Brigid."

"Nonsense." A finger trailed down her arm, and she suddenly shivered. "There is a mighty fire in you, my friend. I can sense it, even if they could not."

She sat up suddenly. "I should have done as you did, and worn a bathing suit. Now my legs are hot and itchy." She removed a bottle of oil from her bag. "I don't need the suntan lotion, but sand and wind and salt water does my skin no good at all. She unknotted her pereu, exposing her long, slender legs and womanly cleft. Uncapping the bottle, she poured a generous dollop into her hands and massaged the oil into her body. As Brigid watched, unwillingly entranced, she slid her fingers along her nether lips, until they were shiny with oil, then moved her hands upward, caressing her breasts, which seemed just a little larger than her petite frame could support. A last, quick tug at her nipples, and she lay back down with a contented sigh.

"Don't you worry about someone...seeing you? Like this?"

"I know every single person on this island by name, Brigid. And their families. And the history of their families. And everyone older than me has known me since I was a baby. I ran naked on this beach when I was three years old. I doubt there's a man, woman, or child on the island who hasn't seen me nude at one time or another.

"So no, I'm not worried.

"A little longer out here, then a swim, then a little more sun, then home." She sighed, drowsily content. "It's a good life.

"Speaking of which, you can swim, can't you? And Connor?"

She nodded. "Our parents made us take lessons when we were kids."

"Good. It will make the welcoming ceremony tomorrow easier."

"Welcoming ceremony?"

She levered herself up on one arm. "Didn't Shaw leave you any information?" When Brigid shook her head, she scowled. "Damn fool. I am so glad he's gone.

"It's not a big deal. When a person moves to the island permanently, we hold a celebration to welcome them."

"We're not permanent," she protested weakly. "It's only for a couple of years."

She shrugged dismissively. "Two years is good enough for us. Anyway, Shaw leaving is reason alone to throw a party. You would not believe how that man could blight a mood. Besides, it's Saturday night.

"One thing, though." For the first time, Elenoa's voice was hesitant. "Everyone will be naked. And you will be allowed -- not requested, not demanded, but allowed -- to choose a man who pleases you to have sex with."

Dazed by sun and surf and dreamy lassitude, still a little fogged from travel, it took a few moments for Elenoa's meaning to penetrate her mind. When it did, she sat bolt upright, her eyes wide. "What? Naked? And...choose a man, like a housewife selecting a cut of meat?"

Her eyes twinkled. "A good analogy, to be sure. Yes. Naked. We honor our gods so. We come into this world naked and squalling, fresh from our mothers' wombs. We leave it naked, our souls flying without their earthly shells to that which lies beyond. We come to our lovers naked, in love and passion. Why should this important moment be any different?"

Local custom. She took a deep breath. "And choosing a man to...to have sex with?"

"It binds you to us," she said simply. "Brigid," she said, laying her hand on her arm. "I know this is strange to you. Our ways are not yours. But I can think of nothing that will make your way among us easier than doing this thing. You, and your brother also."

Of course. Connor, too.

"And if I choose not to go? And order Connor to do the same?"

Elenoa sighed. "Then many will say you are just another white person from the mainland, who cares nothing for us or our ways. That you are looking for a way to exploit the islands. That you are not to be trusted."

She stood, nude but for the black curtain of her hair. "I am going to swim for a while and let you think about it. I'll be back soon." She rushed towards the waters of the lagoon, the banner of her hair caught like a flag in the breeze, then dove in, as graceful as a bird in flight. She was under water for far longer than Brigid would have believed, and when she at last surfaced, she seemed impossibly far out from the shore.

Brigid sat, thinking, wondering whether to accept Elenoa's astonishing offer. Her eyes watched the figures in the lagoon without actually noting what they did.

That you are not to be trusted.

It was obvious that the tenure of Shaw's governorship had not been a happy one. It was even more obvious that if she was to win the trust of the islanders, she had to extend her trust in turn.

And what is so terrible about it? You go to a party, you drink a little, you eat a little, you make an appearance, you go home. Surely you've had worse times at receptions in Europe? Here, you are sure to have good food, pleasant company, and decent weather. And if you want, you are guaranteed to get laid.

She smiled at the thought, her eyes taking in the lovely masculine forms on the fishing boats. It's been a long time.

"Aren't you done yet?"

She blinked, suddenly aware of a group of children nearby. The oldest seemed to be about seven years old, dressed in a simple school uniform. "What?"

The little girl pointed at an older boy, standing some distance away. "Aputi says, that when the Three made all the people, Mahuika built an oven to bake them. So our people are brown like bread. But when white people were made, Faumea lured Tanirongo away from the oven. When he came back, he opened the doors too soon, so white people aren't done baking. Is it true?"

She stood and smiled down at her. "Perhaps it is. But I don't remember being in the oven. What's your name?"

"Huali."

"That's a beautiful name."

"I know," she said proudly. She smiled, showing a gap in her teeth. Her dark hair was done up in pigtails. "Aputi says there will be a big party tomorrow night, with roast pig and dancing, but the white people won't come."

"Aputi," Governor Brigid Flaherty said, "is wrong."

*****

Connor returned at sundown, his legs tired from a day of walking around half the island, but with a firm idea of where the solar arrays should be set. He found his sister in the courtyard behind the house with a glass of juice in her hands, staring pensively up at the sky, where the first stars were appearing.

"Accomplish much today?" she asked.

"Quite a bit, actually," he said, taking a chair at the table beside her. "I know where I want to put the storage batteries, for one thing. The high school is the best-built building on the island. Plus, it is set back far enough from shore, and high enough on the slope, that it would take an absolutely devastating tsunami to reach it. And if that happened, power would be the least of our worries." He gave a crooked smile. "We'd all be dead anyway."