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Authors: Lavie Tidhar
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darkness. ‘Tanuaiterai is dead,’ Kal said. Unspoken— because of you.
‘Come on!’
‘Where are we going?’
‘A man without eyes doesn’t see the darkness around him,’ Bani said.
Kal gave up. He began to see faces in the darkness, made of grey stone. The faces came towards him, swooping down, then disappeared, leaving behind them only a faint recollection, a vague unease of shape and form.
‘Narawan, Narawan, come out to play … ‘ Bani sang. Their feet trod in perfect silence on the tunnel’s floor. Kal coughed. He began to feel sleepy.
There was an explosion behind them. Kal felt something sail past his head, so close that he could feel the wind’s wake on his neck. Bani pulled him down. They fell, not gracefully, the movement feeling jerky slow as if done underwater.
‘Shit,’ Bani said.
‘Stay where you are,’ a voice called out, behind them. It sounded calm and reasonable, and Kal recognised it: it was Georgie, the fat man who was an engineering student, or a marine biologist. Kal hadn’t liked him, before. Now …
‘We’ll get you out of here,’ Georgie’s voice said. It seemed a little far, still, and searching, as if the speaker was not sure where the people he was addressing were. ‘These tunnels have fungal walls with mild psychotropic properties. You must be a little confused by now … ‘
‘You killed him,’ Kal said. The words were thick in his throat. He had to hack them out like phlegm.
‘What?’
‘Tanuaiterai. You killed him.’
Perhaps, still, he expected denial. Less than a day before he was sitting drinking kava in Port Cargo, with no worries but who would pay the bill …
Someone, Kal realised now, always pays the bill.
‘It was an accident,’ Georgie’s voice said. It was coming closer.
‘Please, stay where you are. It’s for your own safety.’
‘What did you do to Toa?’ Kal said. Shouted.
‘He … ‘ It almost sounded, in the dark, as if Georgie was shrugging. He said, ‘I’m sorry.’
Kal reached out, found Bani’s arm, pulled. He began crawling on his belly, forward, his head lowered, almost pressed into the warm stone. He could no longer see the faces in the dark; now, they whispered to him instead, voices rising inside his skull.
There was a second explosion behind them, but it was more distant than the last, somewhere to their left. So Georgie was trailing behind. Good, Kal thought. He and Bani, two eels caught without a stream, slithered on on the stone floor.
‘Don’t!’ he heard the shout from behind. It seemed … almost panicked. ‘Bani, Kal, for your own good. Don’t keep going. Once you enter the Ples Blong Narawan nothing will help you … ‘
The Ples Blong Narawan, Kal thought. The Place of the Narawan . The voices in his head seemed more agitated now, becoming at the same time even less coherent and yet almost understandable. The voices wanted him to go.
‘Fuck you!’ he shouted, and was rewarded with a third explosion behind, this one closer.
But they were almost there. He could feel it, in the small, subtle ways the floor changed underneath him, its heat growing as if its source was close, by its smoothness that suggested frequent travel in this same tunnel in the past (but how far?)—and all the while the voices growing louder and louder, and their faces returning, flickering behind his eyelids like restless ghosts …
The source. Close to the source. He tensed, a boy on the edge of destiny—and turned back. Beside him Bani was still, breathing hard. Later, in one of the few remaining fragments we have of Bani, he described entering into a trance: he was lying on his back, the ground warm beneath him, his eyes closed. When asked if he was aware of his surroundings, he answered in the negative: he was not aware of Kal’s actions at the time. Was he aware at all then? Bani answered yes. What did he see?
Clouds, he said. All I saw were clouds.
Kal was not seeing clouds; perhaps the first time in his life.
‘Come on!’
‘Where are we going?’
‘A man without eyes doesn’t see the darkness around him,’ Bani said.
Kal gave up. He began to see faces in the darkness, made of grey stone. The faces came towards him, swooping down, then disappeared, leaving behind them only a faint recollection, a vague unease of shape and form.
‘Narawan, Narawan, come out to play … ‘ Bani sang. Their feet trod in perfect silence on the tunnel’s floor. Kal coughed. He began to feel sleepy.
There was an explosion behind them. Kal felt something sail past his head, so close that he could feel the wind’s wake on his neck. Bani pulled him down. They fell, not gracefully, the movement feeling jerky slow as if done underwater.
‘Shit,’ Bani said.
‘Stay where you are,’ a voice called out, behind them. It sounded calm and reasonable, and Kal recognised it: it was Georgie, the fat man who was an engineering student, or a marine biologist. Kal hadn’t liked him, before. Now …
‘We’ll get you out of here,’ Georgie’s voice said. It seemed a little far, still, and searching, as if the speaker was not sure where the people he was addressing were. ‘These tunnels have fungal walls with mild psychotropic properties. You must be a little confused by now … ‘
‘You killed him,’ Kal said. The words were thick in his throat. He had to hack them out like phlegm.
‘What?’
‘Tanuaiterai. You killed him.’
Perhaps, still, he expected denial. Less than a day before he was sitting drinking kava in Port Cargo, with no worries but who would pay the bill …
Someone, Kal realised now, always pays the bill.
‘It was an accident,’ Georgie’s voice said. It was coming closer.
‘Please, stay where you are. It’s for your own safety.’
‘What did you do to Toa?’ Kal said. Shouted.
‘He … ‘ It almost sounded, in the dark, as if Georgie was shrugging. He said, ‘I’m sorry.’
Kal reached out, found Bani’s arm, pulled. He began crawling on his belly, forward, his head lowered, almost pressed into the warm stone. He could no longer see the faces in the dark; now, they whispered to him instead, voices rising inside his skull.
There was a second explosion behind them, but it was more distant than the last, somewhere to their left. So Georgie was trailing behind. Good, Kal thought. He and Bani, two eels caught without a stream, slithered on on the stone floor.
‘Don’t!’ he heard the shout from behind. It seemed … almost panicked. ‘Bani, Kal, for your own good. Don’t keep going. Once you enter the Ples Blong Narawan nothing will help you … ‘
The Ples Blong Narawan, Kal thought. The Place of the Narawan . The voices in his head seemed more agitated now, becoming at the same time even less coherent and yet almost understandable. The voices wanted him to go.
‘Fuck you!’ he shouted, and was rewarded with a third explosion behind, this one closer.
But they were almost there. He could feel it, in the small, subtle ways the floor changed underneath him, its heat growing as if its source was close, by its smoothness that suggested frequent travel in this same tunnel in the past (but how far?)—and all the while the voices growing louder and louder, and their faces returning, flickering behind his eyelids like restless ghosts …
The source. Close to the source. He tensed, a boy on the edge of destiny—and turned back. Beside him Bani was still, breathing hard. Later, in one of the few remaining fragments we have of Bani, he described entering into a trance: he was lying on his back, the ground warm beneath him, his eyes closed. When asked if he was aware of his surroundings, he answered in the negative: he was not aware of Kal’s actions at the time. Was he aware at all then? Bani answered yes. What did he see?
Clouds, he said. All I saw were clouds.
Kal was not seeing clouds; perhaps the first time in his life.
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