We, the Drowned - Carsten Jensen [61]
"I've done everything. Farming, carpentry, sailing, being a con. Because that's a trade too. Two kinds of men come to the Pacific. The ones who just want to lie under a coconut palm and never do a day's work, and the ones who are following the money."
"The money?"
"Jack Lewis was one of them. Opium from China, arms, human trafficking, name whatever vice you can think of—and I don't just mean cargo that can be weighed and measured—and Jack Lewis will step forward as your humble supplier. If you follow the money, you need to stick to certain routes. On one of those routes you'll find Jack Lewis."
"Give me the name of his ship."
"The Flying Scud. But you need to make up your mind about something before you start. You need to decide what kind of man your father was. Was he the coconut palm type, who wanted to spend his life lying on his back in the shade, or was he after money? If he was a coconut man you'll never find him. Melanesia, Gilbert Islands, Society's Islands, Sandwich Islands: ten lifetimes aren't long enough to visit them all. But if he's the other kind, you've got a chance. Jack Lewis doesn't come here anymore. But he's out there somewhere."
"And how do I find him?"
"Not in any register. Jack Lewis is the kind of man the authorities don't know about. But he's lodged in a lot of men's memories. Including mine."
"Tell me about his debt."
"Just mention my name. Anthony Fox. And the sum of one thousand pounds."
"One thousand pounds!" I exclaimed. "But why did you give a thousand pounds to a notorious swindler?"
"Greed is the correct term, I believe," Anthony Fox said without flinching. "Besides, I hadn't acquired the money lawfully myself. Call it a loan between swindlers. Nowadays I wander the narrow path of virtue. But purely due to lack of means."
"It's a topsy-turvy world," I said. "Most men become thieves out of necessity."
"As did I once. Well, I was more than a thief. I'll leave you to guess what. Today I live an honest life. People keep their eye on an ex-con. The Flying Scud. Now you've got the man's name—and the ship's too."
"And if I find it?"
"I can't promise that you'll find your father. But you'll find Jack Lewis. I've no hope of seeing my money again. But now you know that Jack Lewis is a crook. Do whatever you want to him, and you'll have my blessing."
That was how men in Hobart Town spoke to each other: as one con man to another. I thought of the vast surface of the Pacific Ocean, which I'd already crossed once. Who could keep an eye on what happened on a deck thousands of miles from shore—or on an island no bigger than a ship?
The word freedom was something the world had taught me recently and I'd had to sail far to grasp its meaning. In Hobart Town I heard that word from men who'd chained themselves to their own greed. Freedom had a thousand faces. But so did crime. The thought of what a man might do made me dizzy.
"Honolulu," Anthony Fox said. "I suggest that you start your search in Honolulu."
"If you know where I can find him, why don't you go there yourself and collect your money?"
"I've become an honest man. Only the stupid steal from the rich. The clever steal from the poor. The law usually protects the rich."
"So you're not stealing from the poor?"
"No, I'm just exploiting their weakness." He pointed to the bar and its battery of bottles.
"It's more profitable and less risky. A bottle in the hand is better than money in the bank. That's how the poor think."
"Ah! So you own all the Bird-in-Hand pubs?"
"Indeed I do."
I got up to leave.
"One moment." It was a trick he had, holding back information until the end. "I do remember one thing about your father." I looked at him. My heart was pounding in my chest. "He looked like a man who'd lost something. Do you have any idea what that might be?"
"No," I said, my heart still banging. "I was only a child when he disappeared."
I went out the door and heard Anthony Fox's voice for the last time.
"You forgot to pay!" he called out. "You're going in my book."
I WAS ONLY too pleased to be leaving Hobart Town.