Volcanic Earthquake brings Hope

Leo’s daughters tended to have the fragrant and summery attitude of all the island women. Briony, Imelda and Jasmine were a clear combination of their parents, but little Maryllis showed his stronger inclination to individuation and originality. Like him, she was a natural animist. She was collecting a zoo of her own animals and had made it clear that the wildlife of the Island was her personal Province. At only five years of age, she had marched up to the Governor and advised him, that the rock pools could not be damaged by work needed to extend the Islanders storm cave protection. Her particular concern was a terrace of rock pools. She feared that the pools would be affected by the plan to cut further entrances and rock caves. Her particular objection was the planned concrete external atrium that would create a door and added a sheltered deck to the rock face.

Listening very carefully, the Governor had requested that she consider how arrangements could be made to protect the rock pools. “Do it like people, Uncle Gov.,” she answered. “We scoop everything out and give them other homes till the work is done and then we put them back where they were. “Course we should get Aunt ‘Madre to bless them first. She knows these creatures best, and Dad could help.” “Is this very important?” asked Uncle Gov. “I’ve never heard of anything like it before?” “Uncle Gov., you’re teasing me. You moved all the donkeys so they wouldn’t be upset. You know how to do this.” Uncle Governor admitted that he had quite forgotten how to do it and suggested that Maryllis organize a school party to plan things. “Of course we will,” instructed the imperious child, “but we will need help from your staff. Why don’t you send the fish students to help us? Oh, and Daddy said we should have a lazy person too.”

“A lazy person?’ queried the Governor “Who are they and which one do you want?” he enjoyed his back porch where the Island children dropped by. “They like to keep an eye on proper Government,” was his explanation to some of the more self-important visitors to the Island. In fact the Governor, governed by accident. Like Moses, he had brought his people home and from innocence created a modern wealthy nation. To those who objected to his fugitive refugees, he explained, “What can you do with them? Stick them in a luxury prison somewhere, or in a dungeon behind all kinds of bars, or even kill them. This way they get time to do good, reflect on their lives and protect part of the Caribbean from criminal turf wars. They may even repent past misdeeds and save their families from repeating their errors,” He always finished with a meaningful look around his interrogators before saying. “How can we know who will need our protection in the future. This suggestion always distracted his guests, who anxiously looked over their shoulders for fear of some threat.

At the moment Maryllis was tugging at his hand “A lazy man is someone who takes messages between Daddy and you, or Aunt ‘Madre and you. Then you might remember the donkeys and the rock pools mightn’t you? The lazy man talks to us and then to you to make sure you know what is what, and where things are. If the rock pools are not back where they belong before the bad weather comes, they might not get their annual winter bath visit with the Sea. That keeps them in touch with their families and everything else they need. Anyway, the seabirds need rock pools too. They go there to drink and eat.” Child and Governor decided that the final plan should be effected with the supervision of the biologist, ichthyologist and any other workers needed to prepare temporary rock pools until the microscopic life forms could be returned to their natural homes. Meanwhile the child had to show her team the location of the affected rock pools.

With her brother Piers, Maryllis lead the biologist, Marcus Juliano, and the ichthyologist Elspeth Watson, to a funnel in a steep westerly rock face. For years, the children had played at sliding down the tunnel to a small plateau where a multitude of rock pools created a semicircular terrace on the outcropping finger of lava. Marcus was horrified that the children played there and risked a dangerous fall. Aunt Madre laughed. “Before the volcano erupted, we had steps here and the plateau was a village. That will be why so much of the lava stopped here. Also, we had steps down to the lagoon below where some of us fished. The children cannot be hurt when they slide down the funnel, but some of us are getting too large to travel by that route.” It was definitely a child’s playground and the portly could only look and wonder. Meanwhile Maryllis had found a different kind of insect. It resembled a ladybird, but it was larger and the colours were reversed.

The biologist was only just getting to know the Islanders and was amazed that the most important people on the island turning out on a child’s whim. Marcus, who had recently fled from New York, explained that it was only an aberrant ladybird. Leo was busy explaining to the fugitive biologist that, “some of Maryllis concerns and outspoken behaviour is her extraordinary eyesight. She does not need a microscope to see the tiny creatures and is fascinated by their behaviour. She places tiny insects were carefully on the appropriate leaf or blade of grass if she finds them out of their natural habitat.” Marcus listened intently. He had held an important position in New York, but the pecking order would not have placed him in the field with the Governor, an imperious child, the world’s most famous computer hacker and a ‘Voodoo’ lady.

He could not ask questions, but Amadriolar saw the questions in him. “Here we are a small, but educated and physically healthy nation. We have time for each other and time to live as the children do, with curiosity and love.” Marcus nodded. “I’ll be doing some teaching in your school,” he said. “I could help Maryllis start an index of her discoveries but our ichthyologist might be more help. “I already started one,” shouted the child up the funnel, enjoying the echo. “But you can share if you want to. Elspeth will be busy with Gorge and his fish farm, for a long time so it will be easier if you help.” She had begun her index of the insect life on the Island and had a small storeroom full of her treasures. Her mother and Aunt ‘Madre were pleased to encourage the child’s island life. Uncle Gov. nodded. “Please see if there is anything here at risk and the child and her friends will share their interest with you.” The Governor knew that the study of useful insects and tiny microbes was an ongoing need for humanity. Honey Bees were at risk globally and Island hives were carefully tended and protected. Without then the whole food chain could collapse. Marcus, grateful for his Island employment, jumped to attention. The Islanders were beginning to fascinate him. The error that had cost him employment in New York had made him useful to the Island University and life. Already he had a girlfriend there and hoped to marry and settle.

In the South Western distance the sea was turbulent. Slowly a patch began to bubble, then settle like yeast fermenting. “What is that?” called Leo. “The Goddess is calling,” replied Amadriolar. “Let us watch and see what her will is.” She made an odd sound, long and expelled like a yodel crossed with a conch shell and then paused while the Islanders watched silently. The sound was repeated twice more and slowly replies flew across the Island. “We must pray.” She instructed those around her. “The Goddess may be offering a new gift to us. We must pray that we know how to accept it and use it well.” Leo loved the way the High Priestess instructed everyone in her religion. There was never any question that the Goddess was angry with them. She brought her bounty. It was for those who followed her, both human and animal, to interpret and determine how to enjoy the bounty heaped upon them. No one ever feared the Sea Goddess or prayed for forgiveness. The world was as it was and only miscomprehension or crime could disturb it.

Leo was fascinated by the turbulence. Their own volcano had been emitting intermittent small streams of smoke while huge ones streamed out from the distant abandoned island, in front of which tiny atolls had been growing, with a much larger one near his Island home. He pulled out his laptop and began to research volcanic activity. The volcanic activity in the south-western area of his home did not conform to expected projections of activity on the sea bottom. He shrugged his shoulders. Nothing science predicted had prepared him for this event. “For safety we should bring the children back from the terrace, I will go and call them,” smiled Maris. “Then we must arrange observers to discover what the Goddess is offering us now.” Aunt Madre nodded in complete agreement.

Caveat also writes at http://www.piecelibrary.com where she is also a Moderator