"What are you thinking about?" Galilee asked her.
"I used to work in a jewelry store in Boston," she said. "And we had this necklace that was called the Milky Way. It was supposed to look like that." She pointed to the sky. "I think it was eight hundred and fifty thousand dollars. You never saw so many diamonds."
"Did you want to steal it?" Galilee said.
"I'm not a thief."
"But did you?"
She grinned sheepishly. "I did try it on when nobody was looking. And it was very pretty. But the real thing's prettier."
"I would have stolen it for you," Galilee said. "No problem. All you needed to say was-I want that-and it would have been yours."
"Suppose you'd got caught?"
"I never get caught."
"So what have you stolen?"
"Oh my Lord…" he said. "Where do I start?"
"Is that a joke?"
"No. I take theft very seriously."
"It is a joke."
"I stole this boat."
"You did not."
"How else was I going to get it?"
"Buy it?"
"You know how much vessels like this cost?" he said reasonably. She still wasn't sure whether he was joking or not. "I either stole the money to buy the boat, or stole the boat itself. It seemed simpler to steal the boat. That cut out the middle man." Rachel laughed. "Besides, the guy who had the boat didn't care about her. He left her tied up most of the time. I took her out, showed her the world."
"You make it sound like you married her."
"I'm not that crazy," Galilee replied. "I like sailing, but I like fucking better." An expression of surprise must have crossed her face, because he hurriedly said: "Sorry. That was crude. I mean-"
"No, if that's what you meant you should say it."
He looked sideways at her, his eyes gleaming by the light of the lamp. Despite his claim not to be crazy, that was exactly how he looked at that moment: sublimely, exquisitely crazy.
"You realize what you're inviting?" he said.
"No."
"Giving me permission to say what I mean? That's a dangerous invitation."
"I'll take the risk."
"All right," he said with a shrug. "But you remember…"
"… I invited it."
He kept looking at her: that same gleaming gaze.
"I brought you on this boat because I want to make love to you."
"Make love is it now?"
"No, fuck. I want to fuck you."
"Is that your usual method?" she asked him. "Get the girl out to the sea where she hasn't got any choice?"
"You could swim," he said. He wasn't smiling.
"I suppose I could."
"But as they say on the islands: Utiuli kai holo ka mono."
"Which means what?"
"Where the sea is dark, sharks swim."
"Oh that's very reassuring," she said, glancing down at the waters slopping against the hull of The Samarkand. They were indeed dark.
"So that may not be the wisest option. You're safer here. With me. Getting what you want."
"I haven't said-"
"You don't need to tell me. You just need to be near me. I can smell what you want."
If Mitchell had ever said anything like that as a sexual overture he would have killed his chances stone dead. But she'd invited this man to say what was in his head. It was too late to play the Puritan. Besides, coming from him, right now, the idea was curiously beguiling. He could smell her. Her breath, her sweat; God knows what else. She was near him and he could smell her; she was wasting his time and hers protesting and denying…
So she said: "I thought we were going to fish?"
He grinned at her. "You want a lover who keeps his promises, huh?"
"Absolutely."
"I'll get a fish," he said, and standing up he stripped off his T-shirt, unbuckled his belt and stepped out of his pants; all this so swiftly she didn't comprehend what he was intending to do until he threw himself overboard. It wasn't an elegant dive, it was a ragged plunge, and the splash soaked her. But that wasn't what got her up and shouting at him. It was what he'd said about sharks and dark water.
"Don't do this!" she yelled. She could barely see him. "Come out of there!"
"I'm not going to be long."
"Galilee. You said there were sharks."
"And the longer I talk to you the more likely they'll come and eat my ass, so can I please go fish?"
"I'm not hungry any more."
"You will be," he said. She could hear the smile in his voice, then saw him throw his arms above his head and dive out of sight.
"You sonofabitch," she said to herself, her mind filling with unwelcome questions. How long could he hold his breath for? When should she start to be concerned for his safety? And what if she saw a shark: what was she to do then? Lean over the side and beat on the hull of the boat to divert its attention? Not a very pleasant idea, with the water so concealing. The thing would be on her before she knew it; taking off her hand, her arm, dragging her overboard.
There was no doubt in her mind: when he got back on board she was going to tell him to take her straight back to the jetty; the sonofabitch, the sonofabitch, leaving her here staring down into the darkness with her heart in her mouth-
She heard a splashing sound on the other side of the boat.
"Is that you?" she called out. There was no reply. She crossed the deck, stumbling over something in the dark. "Galilee, damn you! Answer me!"
The splashing came again. She scanned the water, looking for some sign of life. Praying it was a man not a fin.
"Oh God, don't let anything happen to him," she found herself saying, "Please God, please, don't hurt him."
"You sound like a native."
She looked in the direction of the voice. There was something that looked like a black ball bobbing in the water. And around it, fish were leaping, their backs silvery in the starlight.
"Okay," she said, determined not to sound concerned for fear she encouraged his cavortings. "You got the fish? That's great."
"There was a shark god at Puhi, called Kaholia-Kane-"
"I don't want to hear it!" she yelled.
"But I heard you praying-"
"No-"
"Please God, you were saying."
"I wasn't praying to the fucking shark!" she yelled, her fury and fear getting the better of her.
"Well you should. They listen. At least this one did. The women used to call to him, whenever somebody was lost at sea-"
"Galilee?"
"Yes?"
"It's not funny anymore. I want you back on board."
"I'm coming," he said. "Let me just-" She saw his arm shoot out of the water and catch one of the leaping fish. "Gotcha! Okay. I'm on my way." He began to plow through the water toward the boat. She scanned the surface in every direction, superstitiously fearful that the fin would appear just as Galilee came in striking distance of the boat. But he made it to the side without incident.
"Here," he said, passing the fish up to her. It was large, and still very much intending to return to its native element, thrashing so violently that she had to use both hands to keep hold of it.
By the time she'd set the fish down where it couldn't dance its way back over the side Galilee had hoisted himself up out of the water and was standing, dripping wet, just a step or two behind her.
"I'm sorry," he said, before she could start to tell him how angry she was. "I didn't realize I was upsetting you. I thought you knew it was all a joke."
"You mean there aren't any sharks?"