Masquerade

Eighteen

That night there is no moon. The islanders call it the dark night. A perfect time to catch land crabs. We go to the other side of the island where there are mangrove trees to hunt for some.

To catch them, Jaron lies on his side on the sand and sticks his whole arm up to his shoulder down into a hole in the ground while I shine the torchlight into the hole. It looks really dodgy to me, putting one’s arm into random holes in the ground, but Jaron tells me that even though the crabs are very skittish and sensitive they are blinded by the glare of the torch. They will stop in their tracks and only move again when the light is no longer on them.

‘What if it’s the home of a snake or something?’ I ask worriedly.

‘Snakes don’t live in crab holes,’ he says totally undeterred by my reasoning.

‘You have done this before, haven’t you?’

‘All the time. There’s an art to it.’

The first hole is empty. He reaches all the way into the other end of the second tunnel we find and comes up with his first catch. I scream. The crab’s body is the size of a fucking softball and its legs are about twelve inches long. And it also has a very large fighting claw. The claw alone is bigger than my hand.

‘Want to try?’ he offers.

‘No fucking way. I need both my hands.’ I shudder at the thought.

He laughs.

‘How many do you plan to catch?’

‘Maybe six.’

‘They are so big. Why do we need so many?’

‘I want to give them to Noel. Gwen makes a mean crab rice.’

‘Right. Will she kill them?’

‘Yup, after she has purged them. She keeps them in a cage and feeds them water and cornmeal until all the poisonous leaves and disgusting things they have eaten have come out of their system and then they are ready for eating.’

I nod and point the flashlight at another hole in the ground.

When we have six in our sack we return to the house.

‘Want to join me in the shower?’ he asks.

‘No.’

‘Sure?’

‘Yeah. I’ll just sit here and wait for you.’ He goes in to wash and I sit watching the movements the crabs make in their sack. They seem pitiful, and doomed, crawling helplessly over each other. In the end I can bear it no longer—I take them to the end of the beach and upend the bag. They crawl out, seemingly dazed for a few seconds, but they recover quickly and crawl off in different directions. I sit on the beach and stare at the waves. It’s very peaceful.

Jaron comes to sit beside me.

‘What happened to my crabs?’

‘I let them loose.’

‘I see.’

‘I guess I am one of those proper hypocrites. Give me an indistinguishable packet of crab flesh in the shape of a dumpling in a Chinese restaurant and I’ll chow it down, but show me a live crab and I become Mother Theresa.’

‘I always secretly fancied Mother Theresa.’

‘Even her tree roots feet?’

‘Maybe not those.’

I smile. There is something tight about his mouth. He doesn’t want us to carry on with the conversation I started. I hate prying. I’ve always minded my own business and never been nosy or even wanted to know what other people were doing. Even while they were telling me their business I was bored and often told them to quit it. And now for the first time in my life I want to know about someone else’s business and he doesn’t want to share it. Serves me right, I suppose.

‘Are you hiding something from me, Jaron?’

He winces. ‘Maybe. But it’s not important.’

‘OK.’

He hugs me. Hard. And suddenly I know: it is important. His secret is important.

‘Has it got something to do with Ebony?’

Silence.

‘Maybe.’ His voice is very quiet.

‘Can’t you tell me?’

‘I will. But not yet. I need to trust you.’ My stomach descends in my body. I know with every fiber in my body that he is not sneaky, but I don’t like the sound of any of this at all.

‘OK.’

‘Want to try the Jacuzzi? I switched it on.’

I feel heavy-hearted, but you know what? I’m not about to lose my shit. I’m just here for the sex. Everything else is whatever! For some strange goddamn reason tears are gathering at the backs of my eyes. Why?

‘Let’s go,’ I say in a high, bright voice and stand. A little voice says, what’s the matter, Billie? You jealous? No, I fucking am not. I’m not devastated. I’m not gutted. I’m just pissed off. And pissed off sex I can do. Until his dick rots off.

So we go to the Jacuzzi and the sex is wild and angry and, in spite of the way I feel, explosively good. By the time we get out Jaron is looking at me funny.

‘Billie?’

‘Fuck you.’

I stomp to the kitchen and pour myself a massive glass of rum. I drink it down like milk. And the breath that exists in my mouth could burn a rat to ash.

He stands at the doorway.

‘What’s eating you?’

‘Nothing’s eating me.’ Asshole. And then something comes to rest upon my heart. It’s not his fault. It’s me. I thought I was liberated—that I could do the sex thing without wanting to get possessive and jealous and crazy. But the truth is I can’t. I want to call him mine. I fucking hate that Ebony is in the picture. ‘Just leave me alone.’

‘Is it the crabs?’

‘Go fuck yourself. Stop irritating me. I don’t want to talk to you.’

‘Well, what do you know? I want to talk to you.’

I start pouring another glass. He comes and takes the glass from my hand. I glare at him.

‘You don’t need this.’

‘How dare you!’ I literally scream at him.

‘I dare because I care.’

Something! Something vibrant and alive, something stronger than the best chemical high happens in my head. It shines. It illuminates. On the mainland a man is fucking a prostitute, a dog is foraging in the bins, a taxi swerves to avoid a bus, a man buys a woman a drink. I look into Jaron’s green, green eyes. They are festering with splendor.

You’ll regret this, Billie Black.

Yeah? Maybe. Maybe he is duping me, but from where I am standing his eyes are transparent windows into his soul. Just reams and reams of honesty. He grabs my arm. Brings me to his hard body. Strange how I can’t even imagine a soft body now.

‘I want to be inside you all the time,’ he says.

‘And I want you inside me all the time,’ I confess. The wound closes up, stops bleeding. Ah, that is how you heal the damn thing.

He kisses me. I come up gasping for air. I should leave it alone. But I can’t. I’m not made like that. I have to know the truth even if it hurts me.

‘Who is Ebony?’

‘Are you jealous?’

‘No, I’m fucking not.’

‘Then it doesn’t matter.’

I scowl at him. ‘I don’t want to go out with someone who has a girlfriend.’

‘Why?’

‘What do you mean why? Do you know of any other woman who would put up with that shit?’

‘But you’re not like other women. You’re unconventional. That’s what first attracted me to you.’

‘All right, I’m jealous,’ I shout. ‘Blindingly jealous. Jealous enough to rip your fucking eyes out. Now who the hell is she to you?’

‘She’s not my girlfriend. I work with her.’

‘Not selling real estate, you don’t.’

He smiles, but it is a sad smile. ‘No flies on you.’

‘Erin told me that they have a really cool saying here—don’t let your mouth carry you where your foot can’t bring you back from. Why do you introduce her as your girlfriend, Jaron?’

‘She makes for good cover.’

I swallow hard. I have wanted to know for a long time now. And now I will. ‘Why do you need cover?’

‘I’m a jewel thief, Billie.’