\"Stop smiling, you're scaring me. Wood. "The Beachcombers. ‘Is it such a terrible prospect? I will take care of you—as long as you obey me. "Speak English?" boomed the voice. Wood gave the required promise, though he could not help thinking that if either of them had cause to be jealous he was the party. She 191 picked up the remote, usurping it of its dividing status between their bodies. She wormed her way past Sebastian, glanced at her mother’s blackened face, her obscenely naked body bulging with yellow and black buboes under the arms and in the groin that oozed stinking fluid. Into this hole in the wall and out of it the native stream flowed from sunrise to sunset, when the stream mysteriously ceased. She saw the moonlit waters, the black shadow of the proa, the moon-fire that ran down the far edge of the bellying sail, the silent natives: no sound except the slapping of the outrigger and the low sibilant murmur of water falling away from the sides—and the beating of her heart.
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