The Cynic

Chapter 2:  Ajay

                                            January 20, 2010

Ajay cycled casually along the dirt path through the jungle twilight. As he rode, he whistled his favourite Bob Marley tune, 'Everything's Gonna be Alright'. He took the shortcut to Javette’s guesthouse, where Dink and his wife were staying. Ajay was on his way to deliver a phone, as promised. Travelling east from the coast towards Mont Centrale, the path was barely more than the width of a person, and the vegetation continuously encroached. This gave the physical sensation of passing through a narrow green tunnel. Ajay adored this area, the virgin woodland. He loved La Bajan, his island home. 

Ajay was a phenomenon, bright and brilliant as sunshine, with an innate ability to make real personal connections with everyone he met. He had always been this way. His parents, Soval and Nita Pape, still wondered how Ajay was so garrulous, as they both had more reserved personalities. Ajay himself never really thought about it, it was just natural. It was who he was. He felt truly blessed to have been born on La Bajan and, more so, to have parents like Soval and Nita. They doted on him and loved him. They had also been strict disciplinarians on an island where casual laissez-faire attitudes were the norm.

His parents were of the Bahai faith, a moderate form of Islam, and they had instilled in Ajay a sound moral compass. Ajay had once heard his father say, It’s nice to be important but it’s important to be nice, and Ajay had adopted this as his personal motto. It had not been difficult for him to live by. He had enjoyed a beautiful, happy childhood. Safe, loved by his parents, and surrounded by an exquisite natural environment that was an outdoor playground for him and his friends. 

Soval and Nita only had one child of their own – Ajay – but had raised two other boys, Denis Laporte and Jonah Joubert. Jonah was orphaned as a young child and he and Ajay were raised as brothers. With time they became best friends. As boys they had roamed the island, inseparable and free to hike the island’s remote areas, swim, or fish. In this idyllic setting, adventure was assured.

Jonah and Ajay had started working on fishing boats as teenagers. Soval’s friend, Captain Albert, had hired and trained them in the vagaries of the ocean, the ways of boats, and the art of fishing. Firm but fair, and amiably grim, Captain Albert had been an invaluable mentor to these boys. Despite the fact that neither Ajay nor Jonah were destined for a life on the sea, they had learnt enough to know the difficulties that others faced in making a living on ships. Sadly for Ajay, three years ago, Jonah had decided to move to Israel. He wished to further his passion for professional gardening, and his spiritual study, at the Baháʼí Gardens in Haifa. They missed each other terribly but communicated regularly through social media. Ajay was reminiscing about Jonah and his quirky sense of humour as he approached Javette’s house. Ajay could see Dink and his wife sitting on the balcony, chatting quietly, and sipping cool drinks from tall glasses. They look happy, he thought.

Hey, Jay, the trilled sweet voice interrupted his thoughts, but he was glad of it. Camille had cycled up behind him on the path without his noticing and was now standing on her bike almost next to him. He could smell her sweet perfume and he felt his heart race at her familiarity. He welcomed the warming glow of friendship and love, with a tinge of lust, enveloping him. Camille. How are you? he stuttered lamely before recovering. You’re very stealthy, aren’t you? Like a cat?

Rooow, she purred, clawing the air between them. It was both cute and sexy. Her light-green eyes sparkled. Camille and Ajay had an easy rapport and he had probably always known that he loved her, but he was too afraid to let her know.

Are you spying on the tourists, like a peeping tom? She stared at him hard.

No! he blurted out, a bit too loudly, genuinely hurt at the accusation, even in jest. The exhortation had alerted Dink and Kylie to their presence in the jungle bordering Javette’s house.

Oh, c’mon, Jay, lighten up! She playfully brushed his shoulder with the palm of her hand and was unaware that this sent electricity tingling through him. I’m just winding you up. Successfully, it seems. She made a sad face and then laughed again. Camille placed her feet in the bike pedals.

It’s fine, Camille. I’m just dropping an old phone to Dink. His broke but at least he can take photos with this one. 

Such a lovely heart, she teased as she rode off. See ya, Jay.

Bye, he replied pitifully, aware that he was never short of words except when he was with Camille. He watched her cycle away, noting her athletic limbs and shapely bottom as well as the strength of her movements. It was no wonder she was such a magnificent dancer.

Ajay, How are ya? Dink was striding across the house yard clutching two bottles. I’ve got you a local brew.

Thanks, man, but I don’t drink.

Fair enough. More for me. Come and meet Kylie. He swigged his beer and they walked together across the large flat garden as the dusky sky coloured orange and red. The towering cumulus clouds above the mountain peak shone with the sun’s fiery reflection.

Kylie was standing at the edge of the verandah. Her tousled blonde hair was unmanicured and she wore a simple white flowing dress. 

Dink made the introductions. 

It’s so nice to meet you, Ajay. You sure made an impression on my husband. He’s been singing your praises.

You’re too kind. It’s a simple thing, he said, producing the phone from his pocket. You would do the same, I’m sure. 

Thanks, mate, Dink said genuinely. I can’t wait to take some pictures tomorrow.

Have you had a chance to look around the island? Ajay asked Kylie.

Not yet, but it sounds like paradise. She suggested that tomorrow they would probably go for a walk to the beach, and maybe have a swim.

Ajay suggested one of the more fabulous beaches. Shipwreck Beach is the best, on the other side of the island. It’s very pretty, and not so many tourists go there.

Perfect. Is it difficult to get to?

No, no. It’s easy. Just head up towards the mountain and then along the road south. There’s only one way.

Sounds ideal. Kylie smiled easily, and her sapphire-blue eyes widened. Ajay, I saw that pretty young woman you were talking to before. Is that your girlfriend? Kylie was known to be both incredibly perceptive but also brutally direct. Potential romance was guaranteed to ignite her interest. Even Dink blushed. He could see Ajay was uncomfortable. 

Choking on his words slightly, Ajay managed, That’s Camille. I’ve known her forever.

Well, she is very beautiful. I can see you have a connection, Kylie persisted. You never know…

Filling the momentary silence that followed, delicate birdsong wafted on the breeze. A confused rooster crowed somewhere off in the jungle.

The roosters sleep in the trees on La Bajan, Ajay stated, no doubt aching to change an awkward subject.

Rightio, Dink responded, drawing out the word to emphasise his heavy scepticism. Why do they do that?

There are wild dogs in the forest. Sometimes they chase the chickens and roosters during the night.

And humans? Kylie glanced nervously towards the dark trees adjoining the yard.

No way. This is the safest place in the world. There is nothing of danger here. You can take it easy and relax in paradise.

Will do! Dink said, as he eased down into the verandah sofa and slugged on another beer. He prompted Ajay to tell Kylie about J-C. Dink had already talked Kylie’s ear off about his amazing experience with the giant tortoise. He knew Kylie would listen patiently and attentively to Ajay.

Tortoises are smarter than most people think. They can live to be over two hundred years old, and they are surprisingly good climbers for animals their size. They have been found up the top of Mont Centrale. Ajay pointed east into the twilight where the shadow of the mountain was still visible against the darkening sky.

Amazing, Kylie said, truly fascinated. I can’t wait to see one. How many tortoises are there on La Bajan?

Hard to say, as most are in the jungle in the north. Maybe thirty. Jules Norlan, the old man I introduced Dink to, has the oldest birth-gift tortoise and his sons have tortoises also. Nahim, Ishant, and Roshan are in their mid-fifties and, of course, their tortoises are the same age. Because those guys are always working the farms, or driving their ox carts, the tortoises roam in the jungle behind their land.

Those farms were pretty lush. What do they grow mainly? Dink sat with one leg crossed over his knee and he rested his beer bottle on his thigh. 

It was hard to grow anything with the terrible soil. Using ox manure as fertilizer has improved the nutrients and, with basic crop rotation techniques, they can grow whatever vegetables they want. It’s mainly tomatoes, lettuce, broccoli, carrots, and onions. Things that tourists want to cook with, or eat. On a small island that’s the key, recognising and providing what people want.

You seem to know farming pretty well, Ajay, and what people desire, said Kylie as she tinkered with the phone. 

I’ve picked up a bit here and there but I’m no expert. My import business is the same. Bring what the tourists want or need: wine, cheese, paper plates and cutlery for beach picnics, snorkelling gear. Pretty simple really.

Clever, I’d say, Dink clarified. And Jules mentioned that you saved his life, so I reckon different. 

I just helped him with a few suggestions, that’s all, and he was able to save his land. He and his sons did the hard work.

Well, that’s more than enough. Kylie was impressed with his modesty and she thought him to be a thoroughly nice guy.

And your business in La Porte today, did everything work out? Dink enquired.

Ajay hesitated momentarily before explaining, It was more social than business. I took some fresh fruits to my friend Captain Albert, and some food Mama had made him. He lives not far from here, through the forest. Ajay indicated the direction southwards. Kylie though it so sweet that he still call his mother Mama. 

You are quite the surprise packet. Dink clapped him on the shoulder to emphasise the point. I can tell that you know everyone on the island.

Sure, man, it’s a small island! They laughed hard but the compliment was taken. 

Ajay told them a little about Captain Albert. He had been really kind to Ajay when he was growing up. Ajay used to work on his fishing boat with his friend Jonah, and Captain Albert taught them a lot about the ocean, but also about life. 

His health is not so good, so I like to look in on him. It’s the least I can do, Ajay’s voice trembled slightly with emotion thinking of his mentor. He’s also Camille’s uncle.

Kylie added, Well, I think you’re an angel, Ajay. Not many people would do the things that you do.

It’s Mama’s influence. She has always encouraged me to do good works, and I enjoy it. It’s easy. Straightening up as his own bright idea flashed into consciousness. You guys should come to dinner in a few days. Mama makes the best octopus curry. I’ll arrange it.

Thanks, Ajay, that’s lovely. Are you sure it’s not too much trouble? Kylie asked politely. Dink was distracted, imagining the taste of octopus curry.

No, c’mon. I’ll let you know when it is. I better go actually; dinner will be ready for me about now.

Dink thanked Ajay again for the phone and shook his hand firmly as they all stood up. Kylie gave Ajay an affectionate hug, kissing him on the cheek. It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Ajay. Take care.

Ajay hopped onto his bike and rode smiling into the night. He left a trail of happiness in his wake. A phenomenon indeed.

Chapter 3:  Soval

                                         January 29, 2010

Soval disembarked the ferry and walked across the jetty, happy to have finished work on La Premiere. He wore a fine, grey pressed suit, and looked smart. Tall, with erect posture and a long stride, he oozed confidence. His hair was grey-brown but thinning, and his small dark eyes counterbalanced a long, hooked nose reminiscent of a shark fin. The overall impression was of a serious character. Reserved and reticent. Introspective. He had thin lips and a neatly trimmed white goatee. Soval, from a young age, had always associated goatees with intellect and he wore his with immense pride. 

He headed south through La Porte. The island capital was essentially a small coastal settlement with less than one hundred residents. He continued past the row of oceanfront restaurants on his right and the police station, shops, and Catholic church on his left. Between these buildings ‘the alleys’ ran eastwards towards Mont Centrale. Narrow dirt roads, these alleys connected the coast to the interior of the island. Looking along them, Soval could see the modest houses clustered beyond. He knew the alleys all joined the Back Road, and this road channelled directly south between La Porte and the mountain. Ultimately, this Back Road became Route Centrale leading through The Pass and on to Shipwreck Beach. La Porte, like most island settlements, exhibited increased poverty with distance from the ocean. As a result, Back Road was cluttered with poor shanty dwellings, bedraggled stray animals, and the odd toddy shop. 

Soval sauntered past tourists enjoying the handicraft stores. He greeted other islanders as they passed on their bicycles. He was well known and respected on La Bajan, but Soval had always craved more. As he neared the Catholic church, he was aware that this was part of the reason he had not been fully accepted by the local community. He was Bahai but he was also an étranger: the local moniker for people who had settled in the Sedois Islands but were born overseas. The clear implication was that you were not a true Sedois. In principle, there was little difference. Soval had obtained citizenship and he could work, and vote. It was more about local attitudes. His son, Ajay, was Sedois and was accepted completely and without question. Soval was acutely conscious of the distinction. 

He reflected on his life as he strolled. Soval had been privileged to visit many amazing places and experience incredible things. His life had been good, but he was unsatisfied. He felt that he was owed more. Hard work had been his life. Pushed relentlessly by his parents in Goa, he had studied feverishly to rise above the other Indian children who were his schoolmates. Soval Pape had achieved at the expense of a carefree childhood. With proven academic excellence, after completing school he was awarded a scholarship to study law at Kings College in London. This was an unprecedented accolade for any foreign pupil but especially a poor student from India.  

Academia was a comfortable existence for Soval. He continued to study diligently throughout university as he was more proficient at this than socializing. He existed as a relative loner, studying and surviving. That was until he met Nita. She worked as a cook in a small Indian restaurant close to the university. Nita was Persian and a real natural beauty. Her lustrous black hair and piercing dark eyes combined perfectly with a broad, effortless smile and fierce intellect. Despite having fled Iran as a young woman to escape the persecution of her Bahai community, she had maintained a persistently positive attitude. She embraced life and bubbled effervescently around the local area. She had run into Soval, literally, as he was striding purposefully down The Strand deep in thought. He had struck her shoulder hard and Nita had yelped in pain, dropping her book. A softcover treatise on Freud’s Ego and Id hit the pavement. Nita composed herself quickly, rubbing her sore arm. Soval recovered the book from the ground and dusted it off, profuse in his apologies.

When he saw petite Nita standing in front of him, smiling and sparkling with a cheeky grin and searching eyes, he was smitten. Soval had overcome his natural shyness on the spot to ask her out. Nita had cautiously assented. Their courtship was wonderful. Long, pleasant afternoons spent picnicking in the parklands. She impressed him with her revolutionary ideas of improving social wellbeing through practical morality. And her amazing Persian cuisine. Soval dazzled her with his knowledge of the law. Nita’s friends were artistic and idealistic, cerebral specimens wrestling with life’s large conundrums. And they were also religious. Righteous in thought and deed. Encouraging Soval to attend the local Bahai spiritual assembly with her, this soon became his primary social outlet where he felt most at ease. Intellectually, he connected with the Bahai faith and the communal love of all people. Soval readily converted. At this moment in his life, he felt complete. He had achieved honours in his final university law examinations, he had found the woman he truly loved and planned to marry, and he had discovered real spiritual satisfaction in the Bahai faith. 

On a warm June evening on the grassy banks of The Serpentine in Hyde Park he asked for Nita’s hand in marriage. She had paused just long enough in responding to make him concerned, but then accepted gleefully. The future was rosy, and they were both so happy. Disappointingly, Soval’s entire family were stubbornly unaccepting of his match and forbad him to marry Nita. He struggled to believe his family was so small-minded. He could see that they considered Nita as foreign to them, both in nationality and religion. His parents would not be convinced, and he was equally as pigheaded. Soval and Nita married in a Bahai ceremony within weeks and, as fortune would have it, an opportunity arose to work in the Sedois Islands. 

Soval had initially dreamt of practising law in London but, with time and bitter experience, he had realised that his career path was limited. Being Indian, he was treated as an outsider. It was irrelevant that he was gifted and well-educated; to most he was simply a boy from the colonies. The community at the Bahai spiritual centre was aware of his plight. Many had experienced the same casual racism, and restricted opportunities for advancement. Nita herself had often expressed a desire to do missionary work. One of her Bahai friends had suggested they consider relocating to the Sedois Islands. There was a  fledgling Bahai community on La Premiere, the largest island in the archipelago, but no presence on the outer islands. A job in Mitre, the capital of La Premiere, had been arranged for Soval. He was, after all, a London-trained and qualified lawyer, and this would stand him in good stead on the islands. Nita, all spontaneity and unbridled enthusiasm, was keen to go. Soval was less convinced but, ultimately, he would follow his heart, and his new wife. He also felt that he could, and should, become a man of great standing in this smaller community. These internal considerations of grandeur were no small part in influencing his decision. So, a new life beckoned.

He continued to meander effortlessly along the La Porte seafront, whistling softly to himself in contentment, distracted by his recollections. Soval was still happily strolling as Nita greeted him from their front verandah Hello, Papa, you look like you’ve had a good day.

Yes. Very productive. He stood on the front step of their house, leant up and kissed her lovingly. I was just thinking how lucky we are. Soval enquired about her day.

Busy. I had a class with the local girls. Thirteen came today. That is a record. Her voice was full of cheerful satisfaction.

You are a wonder. I’m the luckiest man alive to have found you.

Tut-tut, Soval. We’re both lucky. But hard work is constantly required.

Ever the pragmatist, he thought. I think this will be a good year for us. Soval reflected on his discussions with his friend Lee. Respect, power and influence would finally be his. 

I’ve just made tea if you want some. Nita pointed towards the kitchen. I’m going to pass by Javette’s house to pick some fresh chili. Ours are not yet ripe.

Soval indicated that he would have tea. Before she left, Nita fussed over him, as she did everyone else. She couldn’t help it. Selflessness was innate, almost certainly a combined result of her nature, upbringing, and faith.

I might go for a ride on Ajay’s jet ski. It’s such a beautiful evening. Do you know if he’s using it?

I wouldn’t think so, he’s taking his old phone over to some tourists he’s just met. Their phone broke yesterday. She wandered down the front path and waved. Nita still found her husband full of surprises, generally stubbornly conservative yet sometimes as impulsive as a child.

Of course. Soval waved back dismissively, thinking, That boy really needs to grow up.

Seated comfortably on the verandah, Soval sipped his tea. He noted the stringy high cloud that often predicted strong winds. The change had not arrived yet and the plants in the garden shifted with only a gentle sea breeze, dancing with joy after the heat of the day. Yellow-flowered frangipani trees and red hibiscus bushes swayed rhythmically. Slick green palm fronds flicked side to side, spilling the air off their large smooth leaves. 

He remembered his and Nita’s arrival on La Premiere and the expected promise of great things. His job at the law firm had gone well. The owner was impressed by his work ethic and acumen, and Soval could see promotion to partner soon following. When the time came, he felt unfairly overlooked for a local lawyer who had family connections with the boss. This flagrant rejection still burned him to the core. Sitting on his verandah on La Bajan, he cursed them under his breath. At the time, in an incandescent rage, he had verbally castigated his boss along with his colleagues, and came close to physically assaulting them. This was unlike Soval but years of continued discrimination both in England and now here had taken their toll on his psyche. He had snapped. Hard, and completely. Calling his employer a stupid island hick, he spat the words into his face from close proximity. Understandably, this had gravely offended his boss and ruined any potential rise through the ranks. The emotive display would continue to haunt Soval. Others heard about it on the island grapevine and felt that he was belittling them too. Of course, he departed ways with that law firm. 

Confident in his abilities, Soval had started his own legal business in Mitre. Initially, work was hard to come by. His career on La Premiere had stalled before it had really begun. Although eventually he had work and made money, mainly through his connections to Lee’s businesses, he never truly recovered his reputation. He was a marked man within the local legal community.

Soval drained the remnants of his teacup and raised it to the heavens. He quietly toasted the thought of the power that would be delivered when Lee won the presidential elections. Soval was Lee’s right-hand man, and legal resource.

My time is coming, he thought, It’s long overdue! Crossing the road to the beach and the waiting jet ski, he rehearsed the prospective title in his head: Attorney-General Soval Pape. He waded out to the jet ski, thrusting his legs forcefully through the shallow water. Climbing aboard, he used his spare key to fire up the machine. Throwing off the mooring rope, Soval revved the engine. He took off faster than he should, and faster than regulations allowed this close to the port, but he was drunk with the promise of power. He negotiated the small waves of the fringing reef and was soon powering through the ocean swell. He felt invigorated as the sea spray whipped and cooled his face, and he smiled joyfully as he headed along the coast into the dusky evening light.

Chapter 4:  Lee

                                             January 29, 2010

They sat on hefty wooden furniture hewn from a black bean tree and looked outwards over the expansive sea. Secreted within the spacious interior of the waterfront bar, they were alone in the cool midday dimness. Felix was the owner of the bar and Soval knew him, but he and Lee were still cautious not to be overheard with such important information. The time and place afforded the desired privacy and, without undue haste, they sipped their beers. Lee clinked his bottle with Soval’s to salute their promised success. Normally they drank whisky but there was much to discuss.

To friends and partners. Lee smiled brightly at the thought of what was to come.

Cheers, Lee, Soval