Chapter 2
WAN SMOL STORI BLONG HILDA LINI
‘THE HILDA LINI,’ Mr. Henri said, the words taking the shape of a comfortable and well-used sing-song, ‘was old and battered, scarred by all the long years she had spent in space.’ He was reaching the end of the lesson, and looked secretly grateful for the fact. ‘Old and battered, but she was also tough. A big lady, she was, built to bear her children across the vastness of space. The people of the archipelago, those who had gone on to the moon, and to Mars, and to the asteroids’—the names, comforting in their familiarity, nevertheless failed to conjure, for Kal, any obvious images—’came together for her. Man Epi and Man Pentecost, Man Tanna and Man Malekula, Man Efate and all the others, all put aside their differences to claim the great ship. It was the time of the Exodus.’
Beside Kal, Vira Zebedee, who was a year older, had a shock of thick black hair around her head like a halo, and fascinated Kal much more than Mr. Henri’s history lesson did, had stuck her elbow in his ribs and surreptitiously passed Kal a note. It said, succinctly, ‘This is boring. Meet by nambanga end of lesson.’
Kal read it, crumpled it into a ball, and agreed with a nod of his head. Vira grinned at him, and an unfamiliar, though not entirely unpleasant, feeling made Kal’s stomach flutter.
It was hot.
The coolness of the morning had dissipated like a dream; noon was approaching fast and the sun, coming through the thick layer of eternal cloud, seemed determined to invade every corner of the world, and in particular the small classroom in which Kal was being made to sit. This, despite Kal’s having far more interesting things to do, such as catching fish or krab along the beach, or swimming in the shady part, or going into the bush in search of buried treasure …
Or the best part of all, which was secret and wonderful in equal measures, and involved climbing up the mountain—
‘The Hilda Lini,’ Mr. Henri said reverently, ‘had travelled through space for aeons with its precious cargo of frail humanity. Who can tell me how long an aeon is—you, Teua?’
There was no reply. Beside Kal, Vira sniggered.
‘Teua?’
Further down from Kal, on the other side of the room, Teua sharply raised his head from where it had rested (in the crook of his arms) and slowly blinked his eyes. ‘Sir?’
Mr. Henri sighed. ‘Never mind,’ he said. It was hot.
Kal, too, was drifting. He thought of the kite he and Vira had been secretly building. The wood came from the southern side of the island, light wood that they put together with cloth and nails and glue, a little cross-shaped device hidden in a cave on the cliff above Bluewater. Vira wanted to call it the Hilda Lini II. Kal was firmly of the belief it should be called The Flying Fox. They were still arguing over it though, as Kal had found out, he tended to eventually lose those arguments to Vira and, somehow, he didn’t mind so much.
‘For aeons,’ Mr. Henri said, a little weary, ‘the ship had travelled with its sleeping cargo. For more time than the combined age of all her passengers, the Hilda Lini searched for a new home. She passed through three solar systems, mapping them along the way, but none was suitable: none could fit the kastom of the people. Until—’
‘Until we came here!’ Teua, awake now, called excitedly from his corner.
Mr. Henri gave him a guarded look and responded with a tired smile. ‘Indeed. The world she found was perfect. And we called it—’ He waited. ‘Heven!’ Teua called again. Mr. Henri smiled. ‘Tru,’ he said. ‘Because it was. Or seemed to be. It was a place we could live according to kastom. A world of the sea, a world of islands. A world …’ he hesitated. ‘Of clouds. Although what that meant, exactly, we only found out a long time afterward.’
Somewhere in the distance, a faint bell rang. The children waited. Mr. Henri shrugged, and said, ‘Go.’
Kal went.
Lunch would be long, and Mr. Henri sleepy afterwards; and no one would miss him, Kal, nor Vira, if they failed to return that afternoon. Kal, hands dangling happily at his sides, went towards the nambanga—the banyan tree—and the shade. They would swim, he thought; and maybe catch a fish to roast over a small fire for lunch. And afterwards …
Hilda Lini waited for them on top of the cliff.