Molly of Tortuga, Copyright © Michael Stevens 2001-2005, all rights reserved

Grandmother's prediction was correct; the next night the Light People came. I was taking a midnight walk, about a mile from the compound, along the beach, in a thick fog. I had just sat down on a dune to smoke a cigar when two gents suited in glowing green walked by, barely visible in the fog, going in the direction of grandmother's house. I could have followed them, but I thought I might learn more by tracking backward to whence they came. In the sand I followed their oddly shaped pointed footprints for a mile or so. Then I saw a silver disk, the size of a small frigate, beached near a cove.

I slid into the nearby jungle to make my approach. When I was near, I saw that a ramp extended from an open hatch, down to the ground, and that two figures stood watch at the bottom of the ramp. They held pistols in their hands -- or at least what I took to be pistols -- and if their pistols were strange, their hands were stranger. Each sported more than the requisite number of fingers, and the features of the unfortunate fellows' faces were sadly amiss -- lips wider at the corners than at the centers, nostrils turned out into the fog, ears almost absent, and tiny piggish eyes. Their skin was rather like a lizards. I thought they must be members of one of Europe's royal families, for only inbreeding could account for such sad deformities.

These were strange sights, indeed, but presently my instincts overcame my astonishment. I crept behind the two guards, threw a tagua nut over their shoulders, and, at the moment its thump caught their attention, scuttled up the ramp.

The hold of the ship held a vast variety of objects, and I knew not the purpose of a single one of them, save for the maps and chairs. Even the chairs were decorated with all manner of little trinkets and flat topped beads with writing on them in some language that I did not understand. Perhaps it was some oriental script. I thought I might have a half hour to forage before grandmother's visitors returned, so I sat to work. It was uncomfortably hot in there, and I was covered with sweat almost from the moment I started. The light was low, strongly tinged with flowertarget, and, amazingly, coming soley from the glowing maps that covered one of the walls. The air in the compartment held a heavy scent which I have never smelled since, though many years later I accidentally dropped a boquet of orchids into a campfire -- the smell was similar.

My work was frustrating. Everything seemed to be attached to something else in a way that was hidden from my view, though many of the objects moved freely as long as they remained in contact with the others. Eventually I pushed a catch that caused a high pitched scream. Perhaps I had disturbed a small animal inside one of the objects. A guard came gliding up the ramp to investigate, so I hid behind a chair. He (or perhaps it was she) went all about the room, often within a yard of me, as I rounded the chair in a crouch, keeping myself on the opposite side. He found the object that held the catch, and, as suddenly as it had began, the screaming stopped. Any well trained animal will quieten in the presence of its trainer, and this is what must have happened.

The guard walked back down the ramp with the most graceful, regal gait that ever I have seen. It was as if he had an extra knee in each of his long bowed legs. I have often tried to imitate this gait in the years since, and cannot come close to success. Clearly, one must be schooled to these things from early childhood, and by the best teachers.

I went back to work, twisting and turning everything that would move. Finally, a little drawer popped out of a recess. In it, I found a egg-shaped object, about five inches long. It seemed to be alive, for colors, shapes, and even pictures, moved over its surface. Some orbited it slowly, others moved up and down its longer length speedily. I was afraid of the thing, but I was also running out of time, so I touched the thingum gingerly. It did not bite, so I gingerly took it into my palm and closed my fingers around it. Its movements gave me an odd but not unpleasant sensation.

I closed the drawer and made for the ramp, but then I remembered something that stopped me. I had not brought another tagua nut to throw past the guards. I saw the sad truth of what I had to do. I drew one of the gold pieces from the purse hanging from my belt, threw it past them, and disappeared into the jungle while they were distracted.

<<--previous- home- Next -->>