Specimen & Other Stories by Alan Annand Read Free Book Online

foolish he’d been so
overcome by excitement that he hadn’t extracted his butterfly net
from its case.
    “You needn’t have bothered,” Walter said.
“You’ll see dozens more when we go into the jungle. You’ll catch
them two at a time.”
    “I don’t believe it.”
    “Of course you do. It’s the only reason you
came.”
    “I’d have come anyway. It’s been too long
since we’ve seen each other.”
    “I’ve been writing you for years. First time
I mention butterflies, you decide to come.”
    “Oh, let’s not start arguing. I’ve barely
arrived and we’re at each other’s throats again.”
    “Right. There’ll be time for that later.
You’re staying the week, aren’t you?”
    “Hardly any choice, is there? Given the
frequency of your supply boat.”
     
    ~~~
     
    After dinner, the night came upon them
suddenly, like a heavy curtain at the end of a scene. They sat in
rattan chairs on either side of a big sturdy table. Dirty dishes
were pushed to one side. A bottle of brandy sat on the table, a
drink within each man’s reach. Through the open window, a
three-quarter moon was visible. Walter smoked a hand-rolled
cigarette.
    “Still got that filthy habit, I see,” Peter
said.
    “I’ve got a lot of filthy habits.”
    “Whatever your faults, you’re a decent cook.
I can’t believe you made this whole meal yourself.”
    “I enjoy cooking.”
    “I can’t imagine doing it all the time,
though. Especially not in this heat.”
    “Usually I have a woman do it.”
    “A woman?”
    “Lovely brown-skinned thing, about 20 years
old. Taiana.”
    “So where is she?”
    “Vanished.”
    “Beg your pardon?”
    “Ran off. They do that, you know. They get
tired of working and they just disappear.”
    “But you’re on an island. She can’t just
disappear. She must be out there in the jungle somewhere.”
    “She’ll be back after a week or so.”
    “This happens often?”
    “Once a month, with great regularity.”
    Peter helped himself to more whiskey. He
took a sip and cleared his throat. “I don’t know whether this is
the right time or not, but I think it needs saying. I hope there’re
no hard feelings between us.”
    “How do you mean?”
    “After the will and everything. I mean, it
wasn’t my idea that Father left everything to me. You were the one
who decided you couldn’t stick around to work the business.”
    “Thick-headed old bugger, he would never
take my advice anyway. It was like working for a dictator.” Walter
stubbed his cigarette in a saucer.
    “I’m sorry I brought it up.”
    “No, it’s all right. I don’t hold you any
grudges. I went my own way, and you stayed at home. How he disposed
of the estate was his business.”
    “I was afraid you’d still be bitter. To tell
you the truth, I was a little worried about coming here alone.”
    “I’ve found peace in what I do.”
    “Hard to imagine, living out here in the
middle of nowhere, in charge of forty hardened criminals.”
    “It has its rewards.”
    “Really? What are they?”
    “You’ll see – later in the week.”
    “I never really liked surprises.”
    Walter nodded. “I know.”
    An old clock atop a cabinet in the living
room began striking twelve. Peter noticed the tones had no sustain
to them, as if they were muffled slightly.
    Peter yawned. “I ought to pack it in. It’s
been a very long day.”
    “I’ll see you to your room.”
    They entered a small bedroom containing a
single bed, a clothes dresser and a small bedside table. Walter
carried a lantern, which threw barred shadows on the walls. A
canopy of mosquito netting lay draped over the bed. Walter set the
lantern down on the bedside table and opened the window.
    “I keep the windows open for the fresh air.
The drawback is the mosquitoes, but the net will protect you.”
    “I’ll be fine,” Peter said.
    Walter opened the drawer of the bedside
table and took out a revolver. He spun the cylinder and set the gun
atop the table.
    “What’s