Read Another Throw of The Dice Page 27


  The cold shower was a shock at first after her sleep but it was a relief to let the powerful water pressure drown out the roar of the wind. She was standing with closed eyes and letting the water pound her from head to foot when the door opened and Robert stood in front of her, smiling wanly.

  She turned off the tap and asked him what he wanted.

  ‘Nothing. What’s the time?’

  ‘No idea - Excuse me.’

  She stepped out on to the mat and took her towel to dry her face. Then she wrapped it around her and went to the hand basin to clean her teeth. She looked behind her and saw Robert take off his clothes and step into the wooden shower enclosure. Somehow all this was perfectly natural as if they were castaways on a desert island where mental and physical survival were the first priority. It felt as if they had moved from bewilderment to a state of contingent resignation.

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  ‘Stand still and turn around - there - don’t move - great - this’ll be something to remember it by. Maybe we’ll even get a laugh out of it one day.’

  Jim pressed the lever of his camera to wind on the next shot.

  ‘Now it’s my turn. All you need to do is get the shot in focus and press the button.’

  The window in the bathroom had been blown in and there were shards of glass everywhere. Polly and Jim had swept up as much as they could find and put it into a corner where they kept adding further discoveries depending on the amount of light coming through. When they used the bathroom they had to wear plastic ponchos and rock hopper shoes which had been packed away since their arrival but which were now de rigueur to protect them from the rain pouring through the broken window. It was this scenario which Jim was committing to celluloid.

  Polly was less enthusiastic about such a souvenir; it had been a terrifying three days which she would want to forget. She too had woken first when dazzling light accompanied by deafening thunder had crashed over their heads. She was rigid with fright as the electrical mayhem shook the house and the sky opened. It was only moments before the huge whoosh of the cyclone began to hiss and whine with such destructive malevolence that she grabbed Jim and hid her head in his neck and wept. She confessed to Jim later that she was inwardly praying to the power which was tearing the world apart and begging for mercy for the little blob inside her. As Jim said the blob was like an underground animal because they were both oblivious of the tumultuous biosphere unless, of course, Polly’s distress communicated itself to her tiny guest. (She remembered how her Spanish grandmother told a story about a child born with a birthmark shaped like a cat because the mother had inadvertently turned the oven on with a cat inside.)

  Jim managed to get Radio Australia on short wave later on the first day of the cyclone. It was mentioned on a news bulletin as causing widespread devastation throughout their island group. But it wasn’t until the second day that there was any report of fatalities which had been in one or two coastal villages exposed to the huge swells coming from the north-west. Polly was very tearful at the thought of anybody dying especially if they were children. Her feeling for young life was intensely heightened and Jim hoped that she would not suffer any after-effects of the wanton destruction wreaked on the little nation.

  When, days later the wild fury began to die down Jim wanted to leave the house to check out the damage to the buildings on the beachfront. While he and Polly were discussing the wisdom of such a move they heard a car pull up outside and it was Min and Robert looking drawn and miserable. Without saying a word they all hugged each other and Polly sobbed openly. Min stroked the back of her head but still said nothing. Jim asked Robert how much damage there had been to his house and he said that he and Min had been together at her place for mutual support.

  ‘I wasn’t much use I’m afraid. I have to admit I freaked out - not sure why.’

  They all described the effect the cataclysm had had on them personally. When Jim pointed out the gear they had to wear when visiting the bathroom Polly started to laugh hysterically. Min took hold of her hand and they sat down on the settee. Jim said they’d been discussing his idea of biking off to check out the damage in the town area.

  ‘Poll’s not keen on being left so p’raps you could keep her company. By the way all we can offer is some tinned tomato juice or bourbon.’

  No one wanted to take wheat from blind fowls as Robert said, so in the end he and Jim went off in Min’s car to see what they could find out. Min and Polly relived the shock of the onset of the cyclone and how terrifying it had continued to be for what seemed forever. Polly explained how apprehensive she had felt because of her pregnancy and Min quivered at the news and began to cry. She gave Polly a hug and muttered an excuse for her reaction which Polly mutely understood. Finally they both hugged each other and Min asked simply ‘When?’

  When Polly gave her an approximation of the date as far as she had worked it out, she sounded plaintive.

  ‘God! - it’s all so real. We have to be serious about getting settled in Hawai’i in time for me to contact the necessary services. This has brought me down to earth with a vengeance. Till now it’s been living a dream.’ She put her heels of her hands against her forehead and moaned.

  ‘How’s Jim dealing with the reality - as you call it?’

  ‘He’s OK. I’d say he’s pretty pleased in a reticent sort of way.’ Polly looked directly at Min.

  ‘You’ll come and visit won’t you? Next year?’

  Min said she’d love to in her mid - semester break, if she weren’t summoned home by a parent.

  ‘I’m going “home” - as my mother calls it - for Christmas so I should be able to go north in July. Anyway it’s winter in New Zealand then…’

  Polly was anxious about Eturasi and his family so Min suggested that they go and see them when Robert brought the car back.

  ‘This is such a tragedy for this poor country and Eturasi will be distraught.’

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  The first thing Jim noticed as they drove on to the beach front road was the absence of the ticket booth where snorkellers bought their passes. The house belonging to the family who operated the diving business was so damaged that no one was to be seen and the normally placid deep trough, full of beautiful fish life, was a churning soup of whole trees and other vegetation. It was hard to imagine the picturesque spot ever returning to its former tranquillity. Jim remembered meeting Michael there after he’d been snorkelling and he remarked to Robert that several of their friends had had a narrow escape - notably Dinah.

  ‘In a funny sort of way I hope I can do something to help whereas if we’d already left I would have felt helpless and even a bit guilty.’

  ‘Maybe we could have raised money to send over,’ said Robert ‘but then it’d’ve been a drop in the bucket, I s’pose.’

  They parked the car and negotiated the jetsam on the footpath. They came to the immigration office building to find that the top floor was open to the elements and the outside staircase had been ripped off. Robert snorted and Jim looked at him quizzically. Neither said anything in the circumstances - it was not the time or the place. The cathedral was intact at first glance but various sea grasses had wound themselves around the statues which were still smiling in their niches as if they were amused. Robert couldn’t resist a quip,

  ‘Makes a change from fig leaves,’ and Jim said that they looked like self- satisfied sentinels. It was obvious that the sea had washed over the road as far as the church façade and when they looked inside they saw that it had drenched the back pews. There were people near the altar –some praying and others chatting while a priest in a white cassock was removing sodden pamphlets from a stand. Robert asked the priest what the latest news was and was told that an air force plane was arriving that evening with things like tents and powdered milk as well as telecommunication technicians. A reception centre was being set up in the two main hotels and volunteers to help with unpacking and distribution were going to be needed. One of the hotels had a working gener
ator and the washing and food preparation for the hospital were being done there until the hospital generator could be fixed.

  All the large windows of the supermarket had been smashed and they saw a few people helping themselves to goods. No doubt the front would be boarded up in the next day or so while at the moment the general populace was stunned by their immediate problems. The wind was still coming in wild gusts to deter all but the most curious. Robert suggested that they walk as far as one of the hotels because he wanted to register his offer as a volunteer but Jim said it was better to wait until the telephones were reconnected.

  When they got back Polly and Min went to try and see Eturasi but the road to the front of his land was blocked by trees meaning that they would have to walk most of the way. Polly felt hungry and light-headed so they went back to try and cobble together something edible. As a diversion everyone nominated the food they most craved and Polly’s was a saucepan full of mashed potatoes laced with butter. Min felt her mouth twitch when she contemplated rye bread and chunks of jarlsberg cheese and Jim drooled over the idea of lasagna. Robert said he had never realised what a slab of grass-fed cow meant to him because he hadn’t particularly missed it during his time on the island where pork reigned.

  ‘Jim has stockpiled salaami you’ll be glad to know,’ said Polly generously, ‘whereas I hope to devour a pineapple.’

  Min remembered the discussion on the Big Island about the unlimited culinary possibilities of hitherto unspeakable protein sources but she chose discretion in the light of their actual deprivation and the possible effect on Polly. Jim seemed to read her mind and he announced Polly’s pregnancy with obvious pleasure.

  ‘I told Min while you were out in fact,’ said Polly.

  ‘So far we haven’t celebrated, so as soon as things become normalish again we must do something memorable. Any suggestions?’

  ‘How about a picnic on the other side of the island where the cool stream meets the lagoon? Have you two been there?’

  ‘Without a car we haven’t ventured so far.’

  Min told them how Robert and Dinah had taken her there soon after she had arrived and it was the nearest thing to Eden.

  ‘That was a day I’ll never forget. I fell in love with what this country had to offer me and whenever things have gone a bit haywire I’ve remembered that spot.’

  ‘Don’t raise expectations too high or our friends might be disappointed.’

  ‘You’re right - it was one of those moments when things came together for me.’ Min looked at Robert and noticed that he was pleased to hear her eulogy but his natural caution always came into play. At some time he must have experienced a real disappointment and he wasn’t going to be caught out again.

  ‘OK - it’s a deal,’ said Jim, reverently unwrapping the salami and putting it on a plate. It soon disappeared and Min was embarrassed.

  ‘You two were better prepared than we were and we’re taking advantage of that. We’ll provide the picnic lunch when we get around to that trip. In the meantime I’ll just feel guilty.’

  Jim observed that behavioural norms were still in action with politeness and guilt operating. He wondered how long it would take to shed them and Robert said he thought his manners were already wearing thin.

  ‘When I’m hungry I feel mean I have to admit.’

  ‘It’s time to go,’ laughed Min. ‘Come around tomorrow and we’ll make you a tuna sandwich.’

  After they’d gone Polly said the very idea of tuna made her want to retch.

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  During the worst of the cyclone Min had wondered how Gerard and Yvonne were managing but she wasn’t sure how she would show her concern. It was Robert who suggested that they go and check on them on day five but Min stayed back to try and dry things out. The sun was back on duty.

  The damage to the café was extensive because it was not far from the beach front. The windows in front were smashed and the rain had drenched a large section of the table area but the coffee machine behind the counter was unscathed. The house immediately behind the café had escaped major damage but little Monique was badly shocked. She still cried a lot and kept asking if the “monstre” was coming back. As Yvonne said she and Gerard had experienced some wild storms in New Caledonia but nothing like the ferocity of this event.

  ‘I think Monique choose the good word,’ she said.

  Gerard wanted Yvonne and the baby to go to New Caledonia as soon as they could arrange it because it was difficult to get the right nutrition for the child. They had plenty of powdered milk but couldn’t use the tap water so Robert offered to go to the hotel and get some sterile water. Yvonne was grateful and accompanied him while Gerard tried to get rid of all the glass which was dangerous. He asked Robert if he knew how Min was and showed some surprise when he heard that he and Min had been together throughout.

  At the hotel Robert put his name down to help in any way he could and he was told that the telephones would be reconnected in the next few days. Help was starting to come in from other countries and there would be a need for distribution to outlying areas once the roads had been cleared. That was going to take a long time so the Prime Minister had asked for two helicopters from Hawai’i in order to reach the most distant settlements. The local radio was issuing regular updates on what was happening and Robert was told that once the crisis was over, there would be a widespread stress reaction and a need for reassurance.

  To his surprise a few market stalls were open so he and Yvonne bought up as much fruit as they could without being greedy. On his way home Robert dropped in a pineapple for Polly who hugged him ferociously.

  ‘Manna from heaven,’ she said as she kissed the prickly fruit.

  Back in the car he told Yvonne about Polly’s pregnancy and she was delighted.

  ‘I have bébé clothers I can offer. How nice.’

  Robert reported everything to Min that evening as they devoured a fruit salad of bananas pineapple and papaya. It was obvious, he said, that everything was going to be in short supply once current food ran out, because the hinterland was devastated and plantations ruined. Prospects were grim and perhaps they should think of leaving - sooner rather than later.

  ‘I’ll stick to my Christmas booking and I presume that the college will continue with the end of year programme, once the future is clearer.’ Robert was in a reflective mood and talked about a collective trauma versus a private one. Which was more awful he asked himself. Min thought that all human suffering was equally excruciating whether collective or private but Robert said that something like the present situation evoked a collective response while a private trauma was intensified by the loneliness of it. Min thought about it for a while.

  ‘All suffering is finally private no matter what the scale because individual responses vary and human resilience is so variable.’

  But Robert pursued his thesis doggedly.

  ‘I think that in a national crisis everybody is more or less in the same boat - especially in a communal society like this one. But even in something like say a San Francisco earthquake, there is solidarity among the citizens who all have the same fear of the same horror.’

  ‘But what about those really unlucky ones whose family members have died or been maimed? How much comfort can they take from the community when their extra misery was random?’

  Robert had to agree but reasserted his central thesis that for anyone suffering alone and surrounded by normal life it was like being poor among the affluent. Poverty like tragedy was mitigated by being shared. The night was almost unbearably hot and clammy so Min suggested that they drive up the hill to see the spectacular waterfall on the other side of the canyon; its volume would be greatly increased by the deluge unleashed by the cyclone and the sight of it might cool them down and help them sleep.

  ‘The sight of water can act as a therapeutic distraction,’ Min confessed smilingly as she reached out her hand to Robert.

  The road was however impassable befo
re they got very far and the darkness more opaque than ever with only low flickering lights in the big houses beside the road. The car lights had picked out flattened telegraph poles and small roadside shops reduced to rubble.

  ‘I wonder what the pastors will say in their Sunday sermons this week,’ Min expressed her frustration. So-called Acts of God were one thing but what capital was made of them was another.

  ‘They’ll have conjured up some nimble theology I bet.’

  ‘As long as they pull their weight I don’t really care what they say. Look

  Min, don’t begrudge other people their consolation.’

  With a grinding of the gears, Min turned the car around and went back to the hot stuffy house where the smell of mildew depressed her even more.

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  The next day Min walked to the college to see what damage had been done there. The big breadfruit tree outside the staffroom was lying terminally wounded and taking up a lot of space. Several young children were filling baskets with fruit and they smiled gleefully at Min as she approached. All the classrooms were full of puddles and she looked around for a broom to try and speed up the drying out process. It seemed that none of the staff had been to look at the damage and she was worried that they were suffering too much in their own villages; most lived further away than she did. Tapa cloth had been ripped from the walls and was lying on the wet floor so Min took it outside to dry out in the sun which was almost at its summer peak. Humidity kept the air moist however.

  She found a broom and was working away somewhat ineffectually when the Principal arrived to check out the damage. They embraced silently in acknowledgement of the evidence of the cyclone’s fury and the huge task ahead. There were tears in the Principal’s eyes when she told Min that her brother and his family could not be contacted. The damage to the livelihood of the nation was incalculable she said, and she had no idea when the college would reopen because the students would be required by their families to help with reconstruction.

  ‘When are you going to New Zealand?’