"You don't know my son," the father said, speaking quietly. "He'll go crazy if it's taken up to the hotel and slaughtered. He'll become hysterical."
"Just pull him away," the manager said. "And be quick about it."
"He loves animals," the father said. "He really loves them. He communicates with them."
The crowd was silent, trying to hear what was being said. Nobody moved away. They stood as though hypnotized.
"If we let it go," the manager said, "they'll only catch it again."
"Perhaps they will," the father said. "But those things can swim."
"I know they can swim," the manager said. "They'll catch him all the same. This is a valuable item, you must realize that. The shell alone is worth a lot of money."
"I don't care about the cost," the father said. "Don't worry about that. I want to buy it."
The boy was still kneeling in the sand beside the turtle, caressing its head.
The manager took a handkerchief from his breast pocket and started wiping his fingers. He was not keen to let the turtle go. He probably had the dinner menu already planned. On the other hand, he didn't want another gruesome accident on his private beach this season. Mr Wasserman and the coconut, he told himself, had been quite enough for one year, thank you very much.
The father said, "I would deem it a great personal favour, Mr Edwards, if you would let me buy it. And I promise you won't regret it. I'll make quite sure of that."
The manager's eyebrows went up just a fraction of an inch. He had got the point. He was being offered a bribe. That was a different matter. For a few seconds he went on wiping his hands with the handkerchief. Then he shrugged his shoulders and said, "Well. I suppose if it will make your boy feel any better. . ."
"Thank you," the father said.
"Oh. thank you!" the mother cried. "Thank you so very much!"
"Willy," the manager said, beckoning to the fisherman.
The fisherman came forward. He looked thoroughly confused. "I never seen anything like this before in my whole life," he said. "This old turtle was the fiercest I ever caught! He fought like a devil when we brought him in! It took all six of us to land him! That boy's crazy!"
"Yes, I know," the manager said. "But now I want you to let him go."
"Let him go!" the fisherman cried, aghast. "You mustn't ever let this one go, Mr Edwards! He's broke the record! He's the biggest turtle ever been caught on this island! Easy the biggest! And what about our money?"
"You'll get your money."
"I got the other five to pay off as well," the fisherman said, pointing down the beach.
About a hundred yards down, on the water's edge, five black-skinned almost naked men were standing beside a second boat. "All six of us are in on this, equal shares," the fisherman went on. "I can't let him go till we got the money."
"I guarantee you'll get it," the manager said. "Isn't that good enough for you?"
"I'll underwrite that guarantee," the father of the boy said, stepping forward. "And there'll be an extra bonus for all six of the fishermen just as long as you let him go at once. I mean immediately, this instant."
The fisherman looked at the father. Then he looked at the manager. "Okay," he said. "If that's the way you want it."
"There's one condition," the father said. "Before you get your money, you must promise you won't go straight out and try to catch him again. Not this evening, anyway. Is that understood?"
"Sure," the fisherman said. "That's a deal." He turned and ran down the beach, calling to the other five fishermen. He shouted something to them that we couldn't hear, and in a minute or two, all six of them came back together. Five of them were carrying long thick wooden poles.
The boy was still kneeling beside the turtle's head. "David," the father said to him gently. "It's all right now, David. They're going to let him go."
The boy looked round, but he didn't take his arms from around the turtle's neck, and he didn't get up. "When?" he asked.
"Now," the father said. "Right now. So you'd better come away."
"You promise?" the boy said,