"You mean, leave Dad behind? I can't believe what you're saying."
"It might be our last chance," I said. "Please, Ma. Wake up the twins and let's go. Hurry, or he'll stop us."
"You want Dad to come back to this boat and find we've run out on him? That's horrible, Charlie."
"I want to go home!" I grabbed Mother's shoulders and shook her.
"What about me?" she said. "Don't you think I'd jump at the chance to go? But look how dark it is. Dad's not here. I'm always so frightened when he's away."
She did not push my hands aside, but she was trembling so badly I let go. If she was not willing to drive, there was no way we could escape in that jeep. And yet I could tell she was weakening. She sounded as if she might agree. But she was scared. Father was somewhere out there in the dark — in the dugout or on shore.
I said, "Maybe he's left us."
"We can't do anything without him."
"He might not come back!"
Jerry said, "Please, Ma! Please!"
Mother's voice shook as she said, "I can't think straight in the dark."
"Tomorrow will be too late. Spellgood will be looking for his keys. He'll see our boat. We'll get arrested!"
A light leaped on in Guampu as I spoke. Now we could see the hard outlines of the bungalows. Behind them, like the bonfire of sunrise, something blazed. High flames turned the nearby trees green and gold, and wet them with light, and gave them frantic Zambu shadows. The fire set the birds squawking and scraping, and human shouts reached me at the same time as the stink of burning gasoline.
"Fire," Jerry said. The flames lit his face.
The generator was the next to go. The tanks went with a bang and blew the whole shed sideways into the river. Pools of fire and burning sticks moved quickly, dancing in the current. The people in Guampu were shouting, and the whole jungle was awake with monkey noises and the sounds of birds' wings thrashing the tree branches.
Mother said, "Oh, God."
The twins woke up and started calling from the cabin.
Jerry made slow scared groans in his throat.
And Mother was whimpering, hitting the boat's rail with the flat of her hand and saying, "Oh, God, oh, God, we should never have stopped here. Why didn't we keep on going?"
"Jerry, grab the twins," I said. "Come on, Ma, let's get out of here!"
"Sit down!"
It was" Father's voice. He appeared on the river, standing in the dugout, the flames behind him, his face a shadow-lump of menace.
"You're not going anywhere."
He was struggling with the dugout. He swept his paddle into the fiery reflections and swung alongside.
"Allie, what's happening?"
"The fire's under control. No one's hurt. They won't miss that plane. Good thing I saw it — did them a favor. Nipped it in the bud. Okay, spread out — we're moving."
"You're a liar!" Jerry said, and went at Father like a mutt. "You lied about everything! You said America was destroyed!"
"I was right," Father said. "Look at the flames."
"Liar! Liar!" Jerry said.
"Charlie, get this screamer into the bow. We're clearing out."
I said, "We're not going with you, not after those lies you told us. You made us suffer for nothing."
"Into the bow!"
"Allie, listen to him. He's got a plan."
"You!" Father said, and pushed Mother against the cabin. "You've always been against me. You always tried to undermine me. You're no more use than these kids!"
The firelight from Guampu, the burning plane, reddened his face and picked out his hairstrings and bored empty holes in his eyes. I was so afraid of his face then, and the twins crying in the cabin, that I grabbed Jerry and pulled him to the bow.
The boat still swung on the anchor. And there were two lines from the rail tied to a tree that leaned from the bank opposite Guampu. We could hear the Spellgoods' confusion and the flames beating like sails in the wind.
"Let's kill him," Jerry said. "We'll tie him up and bash him with a hammer. Then he won't be able to stop us. He deserves it."
"All right," I said.
"You do it."
"How?"
"With a hammer," he whispered. "Bash his head."
I never imagined it in those words. Hearing him repeat them made it impossible. The words were harsh brutes (hammer, bash) and frightened me with blood. The shouts from Guampu were like my wounded conscience shrieking.
"I can't."
"If we don't, he'll come after us. He'll kill us."
"Don't talk — don't say—"
"He lied to us," Jerry said. "He's dangerous. He burned their plane and blew up their generator. He hit Ma. That's what it'll be like from now on, if we stay with him — probably worse."
"Pull up the anchor!" Father yelled. "Get that line off the tree!"
"Don't do it," Jerry said. "He wants to leave. He'll take us further up the river. And he'll keep us there. He's in trouble for starting those fires. We'll never get home"
"The anchor! Hurry up!"
"Let's just leave," I said. "We can hop to that bank and get away. Come on, Jerry."
"He'll kill Ma and the twins. I know he will."
Then Father was behind us, and shouting.
"What's eating you two? Here, give me a hand with these lines, Charlie. Jerry, get a bamboo and start poling fast. If these savages see us, they'll be down on us like a ton of bricks."
He stepped into the center of the coiled sounding chain. Before I could think, or stop myself, I yanked it tight around his ankles. He tried to move and tipped himself over. He came down hard and smashed his head against the rail. He was not knocked out, but stunned and half smiling.
"I'm sorry!" I said. I was terrified. I kept telling him I was sorry, and went to help him up. But by then Jerry was working at tying Father's hands, looping rope around his wrists and thumbs.
"Do his feet," Jerry said. "Help me!"
I wound the rest of the chain around his ankles.
"I'm not going to bash him," I said. "I'm not going to kill him."
"Then tie him tight," Jerry said, and went on lashing Father's hands together. Father had taught us these knots.
"Allie, they're coming!" Mother cried from the stern.
Father seemed to understand, but he remained on his back, still enough for us to get double knots on his hands and feet. He murmured and drooled in a dopey, disconnected way, while I apologized for what we were doing to him.
"They've got lights," Mother said. She could not see us. "Allie, what do you want me to do?"
The airplane was still naming behind the bungalows, but the generator fire had been squelched by the jungle. On shore, in the darkness, we saw flickering lights — lanterns, spotlights — shaking on the far bank.
Mother kept crying out. Her voice roused Father, and now he opened his eyes and made a dive at us. But the knots held and tripped him. He banged his head again. He got to his knees and tried to work his hands loose. Jerry picked up an iron pipe from the deck and raised it over Father's head. I snatched it away from him and threw it overboard. Father had not looked up. He grunted over his knots, then gave a whimper of embarrassment and anger that he couldn't break the ropes in one hard pull.
"Hey," he said in a drunken way, and began biting at his wrists.
I did not want to be there when he freed himself. Jerry and I ran to the stern. I swung the dugout around to our side of the boat, away from Guampu, and told Mother to get in. She was holding the twins and crouching in the dark, looking toward the Guampu shore, where the small lights swung in the darkness and the distant plane burned.
A yell went up on shore. It was Spellgood, shouting in Spanish and also in an Indian language, maybe Twahka. His voice had a tunnel echo, as if he was shouting through a bullhorn or a megaphone.