The Ancient

She had stood on the edge of the world, as awed and terrified by the green desert of jungle that stretched eastwards to seeming infinity as the Incas who had halted the progress of their empire at almost the same spot had been. A dipso American merchant seaman and a few ground-down working men were not going to cause her trouble, even if they wanted to, which judging by their renewed attention to the Brazilian game-show host now hooking his arm round what looked like a Vegas showgirl, was not high in their priorities.

She walked forward, touched the bottle lightly with her fingers and gave the barman a look that enquired how much she owed him.

‘On me,’ said her self-appointed host.

Before she could protest and pretend that she would consider it improper, the man behaved outstandingly properly and offered his right hand as though she were a visiting college inspector and he the principal.

‘Matthew Cotton. Enriched to hear my native tongue.’

Esther studied him for a beat then took the hand. ‘Esther Mulholland.’ She removed her hand and touched the bottle again. ‘Thanks.’

The beer was delicious. She took two long swallows, closing her eyes as the freezing, bitter liquid fizzed at the back of her dry throat.

‘They write up Pedro’s joint in some back-packers’ guide, or did you just get lost?’

Esther wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. ‘The guys at the dock gate said this was the only phone.’

Matthew Cotton nodded through another cloud of smoke. ‘Yeah. Guess it is.’

‘Nice,’ said Esther, gesturing to the room in general with her bottle.

‘It’s also the only bar.’

Esther took another swallow, watching him as he shrugged to qualify his statement. ‘You off a boat?’

Matthew nodded. ‘Lysicrates. That pile of shit they’re loading.’

‘Just a long shot, but has the Valiant Ellanda been in?’

Matthew looked up at her with mild surprise. ‘You some kind of cargo boat fanatic?’

‘Cargo boat passenger whose boat looks like having sailed.’

Matthew raised an interested eyebrow, then turned his glass round in a big hand as he thought. ‘Valiant Ellanda. Container ship. Right? Big mother.’

Esther nodded, enthusiastically.

‘Sailed last week.’

Esther nodded again weakly.

‘Then guess you got a little time to kill.’

‘I wish. Due back at college in ten days.’

‘They’ll live.’

Esther looked at the bar. ‘I’m military. Scholarship.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

Matthew was looking at her more closely now, continuing to study her face as he drained the last of some yellowish spirit that had filled his glass. Without even looking at the barman, he gestured with the empty vessel and it was filled nearly to the brim. Esther looked away, reminded of Benny and the tiny, unpleasant ritualistic mannerisms that all alcoholics shared.

‘What they do then, if you’re late? Shoot you?’

‘Put it this way: military students don’t get a lot of slack to dress up in tie-dye vests and wave placards. And you sure as hell don’t get to pick when you show up for semester.’

Matthew tipped the glass back and emptied half of it, baring his teeth in a snarl as the liquid drained down his throat.

‘Bummer,’ he croaked.

‘You got that right.’

Matthew turned his head back up to the TV and leaned forward on his elbows. Esther waited to see if the conversation would be continued and when it was clear that it would not, she drained the rest of her beer and made ready to go. She picked up her pack.

‘We sail for Texas. Two days’ time.’

He spoke as though talking to the game-show host.

‘Sorry?’

‘Port Arthur.’

Esther’s heart beat a little faster, then it slowed and sank.

‘My ticket’s non-refundable.’

‘Aw, bullshit. Most companies say that stuff. They’ll do a deal.’

Esther shook her head. ‘Not with this ticket. Even the cheapest cargo ship ticket is way out of my reach. I’m only here ’cause a geek I dated at college has a dad who works for the shipping company. Man, to think I put up with that guy’s bad breath and stinking taste in movies for at least two months to get that ticket.’

She paused and looked at the floor.

‘And just on account of wanting to see some shitty old temple they’ve only just half dug out the grit, I’ve blown it. Big time.’

Matthew was still looking at the screen, but he was smiling. ‘What’d he make you see?’

‘Waterworld, for one.’

‘Jesus.’

‘Yeah.’

Matthew stared at the screen a little more, then looked at his wristwatch. ‘Gimme an hour then come by the boat. Captain’s pretty easy going.’

Esther put her pack down slowly. ‘For real?’