Chapter Six
A Decent Proposal
On our walk back to the outpost, I ended up several feet in front of Dinesh, eager to return to the privacy of our hut and hankering for a post-fuck nap to be honest. I was completely in my own head, visualizing what had occurred in the tidal pool, when I walked straight into sticky softness that immediately sent a primaeval alarm through my entire body.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I cursed, swiping at the webs of spidery silk that clung to me all over, and glancing down to see if the owner of this trap was anywhere on me.
The sight that greeted me increased my horror and made my breath stop with fear.
Spiders, glossy black and as small as a pin, covered my legs beneath the rolled hems of my trousers.
“No, no, no, no—” I yelled, as I bent to remove them and danced about, trying to shake them off.
Then Dinesh grabbed my arm.
“Simon! What on earth’s the matter?”
Couldn’t he see, for fuck’s sake?
“Spiders! Get them off me. Get them off!” I shouted, wrenching my limb away from his hold and brushing at myself.
“There’s nothing on you, Rooster. Did you walk through a web?”
“Yes I walked through a web! Get them off!”
But I stopped and tried to calm myself. I gazed down at my legs which were only pale and free of anything but sand and a few wayward freckles.
I shivered with disgust and could hardly believe that there was nothing there.
I’d seen them. I’d seen spiders all over my calves and feet.
And they were gone. Which was good. Of course it was, but I gazed at the captain with helpless agitation.
“There were spiders. On my legs. I swear it.” My voice was a trembling whisper.
He looked my legs over, turned me around, brushed at my back as if to admit that there might be a spider somewhere upon me.
“Well, there’s nothing there now. Perhaps it was shadows…”
Yeah. Shadows making me lose my composure in an instant and dance around like a dervish.
“Right,” I said. I didn’t want to argue. We’d had such a nice time and I didn’t want to ruin it.
As we carried on, the skies opened up and rain came down in a sudden torrent. It soothed my still-crawling skin but had quickly soaked us.
Dinesh took my hand and began to run.
“Come on,” he said, grinning at me as though the spider incident had never happened.
I decided to act that way as well and gave him a brave smile back as I let him pull me along. But the incident in the ocean earlier, and now this, had me questioning my reason.
The crew had hastily drawn a canvas cloth over the skiff into which they had put the supplies for their return to the Arrow, and were huddled under one of the leafed canopies that made up the outpost. Raised voices could be heard, and Gau and Black were gesturing aggressively at each other.
“Go on ahead. I’ll meet you at the hut in a moment,” Captain Martin said, eyeing the two men with concern.
“All right.”
I waved to Jimena who was nursing her babe and singing to him under a canopy where she had placed the wooden bowl of ground cacao beans.
José was playing some kind of game with the older child, using shells and sticks placed on the sand in a drawn grid.
José glanced at the arguing men, met my gaze and smiled, then turned back to the game and moved a clamshell from one square to another.
The child pointed at a mollusc and said something. José replied and the child laughed.
I headed back to the hut I shared with Dinesh.
The men had been well-behaved on Talamanca so far.
What with the heat and brief bouts of torrential rain, perhaps the flare of tempers was inevitable.
Francis’s beach was a paradise in many ways, but not exactly a familiar environment for the Arrow’s crew, who were used to a rougher life and wanted options when they landed.
The location was almost too peaceful.
Once inside the enclosure, I stripped off my wet trousers and dried myself with a large linen cloth. The hut had been supplied with more comforts since José had returned from the village with Jimena. I couldn’t fault the hospitality of Francis’s community.
I used the towel on my hair, which was clean and fresh again, before drying my other parts.
The dip in the pool and our passionate activities had rejuvenated me.
I talked myself down from the scare with the spiders, which echoed the one in the water earlier.
Perhaps it was simply that I was in an unfamiliar place with different kinds of creatures roaming about, and a mind tending toward fancy.
God knows I had an overactive imagination at the best of times.
I laid my garments out on the floor and hoped they would dry once the sun came out again, then located the linen undershorts I’d declined to wear and pulled them over my legs, tying the cord that kept them from falling down.
At least I had something to wear until my clothes dried.
The rain had done little to break the heat or the humidity, so I wasn’t cold at all.
In fact, I was determined to see if I could get away with only wearing my trousers with the hems rolled up for the remainder of our stay, since some of the men had already begun to do so, and I didn’t see why I should wear a shirt if I tried to stay in the shade when I could.
I sat on one of the reed mats with my legs crossed, and spent a moment examining some of the small pebbles and shells I’d collected when Domingo and Squid and I had been on the beach.
As I was turning a miniscule mollusc shell over to look at the pearlescent underside, there was a quick warning knock and Dinesh pulled the door open.
He eyed me as he shut the door and smiled.
“Hmm, I can get used to you wearing only your knickers.”
I frowned. “They ain’t knickers, you daft man. I’m not a maid.”
The captain smirked and cocked his head.
“If you say so. You’re an awfully delicate fellow in some ways.”
I pushed myself up from my spot and stood directly in front of him, anger filling me at such a slanderous comment.
“You take that back, you bloody fuck,” I said, recalling similar comments in my youth from other boys.
Dinesh’s eyes went wide, and he raised his hands, palms out, between us.
“Now, now. I only meant that in the most favourable of ways. You didn’t mind when I called you a fussy miss at the tidal pool.”
I narrowed my eyes, my heartbeat slowing as my instinctual reaction to someone maligning my masculinity began to subside.
“I did, only you were doing several things that I didn’t have a mind to interrupt.”
I stared at him in his soggy clothes, his hair dripping with moisture, and felt rather sorry for my reaction. He hadn’t expected it nor intended malice.
I stepped back and crossed my arms over my chest. “Take off those wet togs, for heaven’s sake. You’re dripping all over the floor.”
Then my eyes went wide, and I slapped a hand over my mouth, as Dinesh’s grin stretched over his face.
“Oh, fuck me. I sound like a bleedin’ fishwife,” I said, the sound coming out muffled.
So much for the masculinity I was desperate to protect.
“Well, you don’t look like one. You’re a vision of manliness, my upstart young cockerel,” he said, gaze running over my barely clothed form. “And I do like it.”
I lowered my hand. “Well, good, because I want to talk to you about not wearing my shirt anymore, whilst we’re on Talamanca.”
He waved his hand in the air before starting to unbutton his drenched garment.
“I might join you. I’ll ask Francis whether we should dress more formally for the cacao ceremony this evening, but otherwise, you’re right.
The climate is much too hot to wear more than our trousers, and those rolled up.
” He eyed my undergarment. “Although in the privacy of our little hut, I’m more than happy for you to only wear those. ”
“See, wasn’t it wise of me not to wear them this morning? Yours are probably as wet as your clothes.”
Captain Martin pulled off his soaked shirt and undid the buttons on his trousers, pushing them down and off.
“Well, I suppose I’ll have to be naked then until we can get these dried.” He undid the drawstring of his undershorts and shoved them off, laying them beside our wet things, as I gave him an appreciative look.
“Oh dear. Whatever shall I do? Wherever shall I look?” I put the back of my hand to my forehead, as if I were a delicate maiden with sensitive morals.
Dinesh chuckled and eyed the item between my fingers. “What have you got there?”
I grinned and held the shell out. “Treasure!”
“Oh, that’s a nice one. Did you collect more than that?”
“Aye, I’ve a whole pile here. Want to see them?”
“I’d love to.”
We sat together on the mat, Dinesh in his all-together and I in my drawers, and examined the fine shells and rocks.
It was so lovely to share them with him, and to watch him look closely at each object and ask what I liked about each one.
He leaned in and nuzzled my neck, and to my own horror, I made a sound resembling the giggle of a schoolgirl.
“It’s you!” I exclaimed, pulling back and aiming a glare at him. “You’re doing this to me!”
“Doing what, my precious rooster?”
“Turning me into a simpering, quivering fool!”
“Oh, I do hope so.” He leaned in and licked a line from my ear to my clavicle.
“Stop it,” I sighed, hopeless to make any genuine protest.
“But Rooster, you make such a lovely bride.”
His lips stilled against my skin. He pulled back and coughed. Then his gaze met mine as I held my breath.
He blinked, coughed again, then said, “Well, I suppose we might as well be married.”
All of my breath left me as my eyes went wide and the implications of his words hit me like a slap to the face. My brain whirled as I contemplated how to respond to this. Then I felt affronted.
“Well, if that ain’t the most insulting proposal I’ve ever heard in my life! Christ, Dinesh, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
Dinesh’s gaze was intense. He reached down and took my hand, lifted my fingers and kissed my knuckles.