Red Sun Also Rises, A by Mark Hodder Read Free Book Online

again,” he said.
    Glancing at me, my sexton gave him a refill.
    He swigged it back, held his vessel out for another, swallowed that, too, then dragged his skinny wrist across his lips. “You will both go from here today. You are not good for Koluwai. We will let you stay only if you speak like us.”
    “You mean we can remain if we learn the Koluwaian language?”
    “Yes. Only if you do that.”
    “Then we will learn.”
    “You have more wine?”
    “Yes.”
    “Then I will teach.”
    This sounded like a reasonable proposition, so we conceded, and from that day forward, Iriputiz visited us each evening and proved himself a very capable, if drunken, tutor.
    The tongue of Koluwai is, I suspect, entirely unique. It doesn’t at all resemble the languages of the other Melanesian Islands and probably exists nowhere else on Earth, but it is not complex. Consisting mostly of pops, snaps and clicks, buzzes, and long drawn-out vowels, its vocabulary is extensive but its grammar almost childish, requiring only that a noun be stated twice to indicate the plural, and having just three verb tenses. However, in common with many undeveloped idioms, nuances of meaning are primarily indicated through context and tone. Accompanying gestures are also far more extravagant and important than in English; so much so that many things are communicated solely with waved hands, nods of the head, and, especially, flicks and waggles of the fingers.
    Clarissa and I were already fluent in a number of languages so we made rapid progress in our lessons, the main challenge being phonetics we weren’t used to and which felt to us ill-designed for the human vocal apparatus. Many ptahs and zz ’s and back-of-the-mouth “y” and “g” consonants were demanded, while vowels tended toward lengthy oohs and aahs . The “throat click” was particularly difficult. In isolation it presented no problem, but when it occurred in the middle of a word, it was hard to produce without pausing before and afterwards.
    Nevertheless, it was only a few weeks before we were able to converse with the islanders, though when we did so, their reaction appeared somewhat strange to me, for no matter what the subject, our words would elicit first a nod of satisfaction, then, when we moved away, a whispered discussion, as if our progress was being assessed with reference to an agenda of which we weren’t aware.
    It was exceedingly odd.
    We made fast progress in creating a home for ourselves and soon moved out of the shacks, thanks to Clarissa’s remarkable skills. She positively blossomed on the island. With fairly inadequate assistance from twelve Koluwaians and despite her physical deformities, she constructed with astonishing rapidity an eight-roomed cabin, complete with a veranda, a library, a workshop, and a chemical laboratory. She then started to erect a church. These buildings, which comprised our missionary station, were located on a jungle-free hill overlooking the sea, half a mile to the south of Kutumakau.
    I had never seen anyone work with such industry and unflagging energy.
    “How do you do it in this tyrannical heat?” I asked one evening. “I can barely lift a finger, yet you race around carrying planks, sawing them up, knocking them together, building, building, building! You must have the endurance and strength of an ox!”
    “The more engaged I am with a task, the less I feel the pain of my twisted bones,” she answered.
    “Do you really suffer so, Clarissa?”
    “I barely remember the days when I didn’t.”
    “I’m sorry. I wish I could help.”
    “You brought me here, Aiden. This is a place where everything needs doing. There’s no time for me to stop and acknowledge that I hurt. That is a splendid gift!”
    While my companion worked, I set about spreading the word of Our Lord with, I must confess, very little energy and an almost complete absence of true conviction. Just as I had resented my parishioners in Theaston Vale, so I now felt the