Tales of the South Pacific - James A. Michener [113]
"Going to marry Benoit?" he asked.
"Yes, lieutenant," she replied. "It is strange, is it not, how things work out? Benoit has been a very bad man at times. He has had several children by native women. I understand he tried to marry an American nurse and almost did. Now he returns to his first love, the little Tonkinese girl. You see, nature and God work together in unforeseen ways to accomplish their common purposes."
Cable remained on the little bench. He did not even rise as Sister Clement, with some sorrow in her heart, bade him good day and climbed the hill to her hospital. Now beauty was gone from the channel, and the island of Bali-ha'i was an empty thing. Like the bloom that drops from a thorn and leaves once more the ugly plant, Liat's going had left behind an island that could be seen in its true light. There were the savage hills of Vanicoro. Here was the useless little island with a few coconut trees and a mysterious wartime family of women. The channel was sometimes blue, but no important craft could ever find harbor there, and those little black children, if left alone, would soon revert to savagery. In great discomfort Cable discovered these things about Bali-ha'i, which a few minutes before had been the pearl of the seas, a veritable paradise. Not having the philosophic turn of mind that Atabrine Benny had, he did not speculate upon the multiple manifestations of truth. He was content to be wretched and terribly alone.
As soon as the homeward trip started, Cable began to lay plans with Benny to visit Jacques Benoit the next morning. Benny, who loved intrigue, agreed to change his schedule so as to accommodate his friend. They would leave early in the morning, and if Benoit wasn't there, why that would be just too bad, and no harm done.
That evening at mess Cable overheard a strange conversation among his fellow officers. As a matter of fact, he didn't really hear much of the conversation, merely a bit of heckling directed at little Eddie, who had that warm number in Minneapolis.
"What are you going to tell her now?" one chap asked.
Eddie blushed and replied, "Well, at that price I figured you can't go wrong."
"And the way you talked!" another chided. At this they burst into laughter and broke up. "What were they talking about?" Cable asked a friend. "Eddie just changed his mind," the other officer replied. "What do you mean?"
"You wouldn't be interested," the officer said stiffly. Cable had rebuffed him so frequently in past weeks that he was not disposed to chat with him now.
As they climbed the small hill leading to Benoit's place, Benny asked Cable if he had heard the news? The news about the two sailors who cut one another up after a heavy load of torpedo juice. "There was something else in the story, but I didn't get it straight. It was out by the Tonk village, and I guess they were fooling around too much. You know how it is with that damned torp juice!"
"Benny," Cable interrupted, not interested in the brawling inevitable at any advanced base, "when we get there, please let me speak to Benoit."
"Sure, sure!" the druggist agreed. "Now look over there. The small lean-to? That's where we hand out the atabrine. The Tonks and natives will line up and you can talk with Benoit." He gave his mournful warning: "Yaaaaaaooooooo!"
From a dirty shack a native girl let out a scream. It was the pill-man! Quickly she brought the heavy memorial conch and tooted a mournful blast upon it. From fields the workers ambled in. Ugh! they were dirty. To Cable the Tonks looked like the endless starving peasantry of China. Natives were sullen-faced and filthy. But to Benny the Tonks looked spirited and friendly. The natives were much cleaner than when he had first visited the plantation months ago.
"Allo, Benny!" a French voice called out. "Pretty early today. What bring you here?" It was Benoit.
"Extra work this week," Benny lied. "You're lookin' good."
"And why not?" the gross Frenchman asked in revolting coyness. "I should be lookin' wery good. I going to be married!"