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No, that wouldn’t do either.
Hyienna sighed heavily and made his way back to the bed, pushing a teetering stack of designer bags onto the floor as he reconfigured the trouser and shirt combinations laid across his bed. Standing back, he wiped his forehead and took a long swig of ice water as he looked at the new options laid out before him.
It was hot, and Hyienna didn’t want to turn up to lunch dripping like some over exerted builder on a double shift; neither did he want his companion to think he was making too much of a special effort. He glanced at his watch; still an hour to go so there was plenty of time to make a decision. Maybe he needed a woman’s eye on the problem, Yaz was just downstairs, and he had no doubt she’d be happy to give her opinion on this or that outfit. But no, he couldn’t ask her, the last thing he needed was more gossip; there plenty of that to go around anyhow, and that was before he’d agreed to meet a total stranger for lunch.
A big part of him was glad that Nathaniel’s invitation had arrived some three days after their chance encounter on the jetty; if indeed chance had anything to do with it. If nothing else, it had given him the excuse to spend a couple of days upgrading his wardrobe, which on reflection was probably more a result of Solomon’s cutting remarks than Nathaniel’s invitation. Still, it had all ended up the same way, with Hyienna spending more than he should have in Sant Francesc Xavier’s more swanky shops in an effort not to be seen in the same two outfits by everyone on the island. At least he’d have something to put in his battered wardrobe now...the wardrobe. As though part of a well-rehearsed ritual, Hyienna felt his eyes straying inexorably towards those scratched wooden doors, while his mind journeyed inside to consider the mystery that waited within. In truth a part of his mind was always anchored to the fathomless darkness handed to him by the woman beside the sea. One way or another, his inner and outer worlds had begun to revolve around that hub of nowhere-ness within a very short time. Like ink spreading across a newspaper, that bottomless blackness had seeped through every fibre of his being, subtly changing him in ways he could only glimpse in the grey twilight between waking and sleep.
Hyienna was surprised at how quickly he’d become accustomed to the strange dreams, despite their often opaque and disturbing nature. His eyes momentarily flicked to the notebook beside his bed as a fleeting image slipped past the lens of his consciousness...something about an egg or a gift, or maybe an egg as a gift. The river was always there when he slept, as was the egg, or at least he thought so. For a moment he considered scribbling down the word “egg” to see how it might fit into the jumble of other impressions he’d recorded on waking, but he knew it would come again. Whatever force had been emancipated when he’d taken possession of that battered rucksack, Hyienna instinctively understood that he was no longer fully in control of events. That was especially true in the nocturnal realm.
After a moment’s hesitation he dismissed the notebook and focused once again on his new wardrobe. He knew he’d see the egg and the river again and again until the full message had been revealed. In the meantime, life went on and it was always a question of priorities. Hyienna knew that lunch was in about an hour while his mystical destiny would wait at least until tomorrow.
White. It had to be white really. One thing he’d noticed about Formentera was that white seemed to be the colour of choice for a large number of natives and long-term residents. It seemed to be more of a practical than a cultural thing, but whatever the case, Hyienna felt an unusually strong urge to blend in and to do things the island’s way. He wasn’t sure where his new-found fondness for conformity had sprung from as it certainly wasn’t something he recognised in himself, but there was just something about the place, a timeless acceptance of life’s great and sweeping cycles. Here, it wasn’t just about Hyienna; it was about Hyienna, his surroundings and his place in the grander scheme, whatever that turned out to be. This was no time for rugged, confrontational individualism; it was a time for watching, waiting and learning. Yes, white it was.
His mind made up, Hyienna finally reached for the crisp, loose fitting white shirt he’d bought from a boutique with no name, just a big neon exclamation mark outside. His hand hovered for a moment before he changed his mind for the umpteenth time that morning. White was definitely the right choice, which left him in no doubt that Nathaniel would be wearing exactly that. Hyienna did wonder why he was thinking like a woman in terms of dressing but wearing the same colours as his male lunch companion was just too weird, although he couldn’t put his finger on exactly why.
In the end he opted for a pastel turquoise shirt and a pair of plain and smart fitting black jeans, as anything else would be impractical for scooter riding. He quickly changed his clothes before he changed his mind again, then glanced at his reflection in the mirror and nodded. Before he could talk himself out of his wardrobe choice, Hyienna hurriedly slapped on some cologne and picked up his jacket. With one final glance at his chipped wardrobe doors, he stepped out onto the cool of the landing as he tried to stop the Miami Vice theme tune from looping round in his head.
* * *
DESPITE HIS WARDROBE vacillations, Hyienna made it to La Mari Ses Roques with a few minutes still to spare. He was glad he’d left himself plenty of time as he didn’t want to turn up looking too dusty and flustered.
The day had grown steadily hotter, and he could see the heat shimmering off several smart, well waxed cars as he made his way to restaurant’s smoked entrance doors. Initially he’d been surprised at the number of people who were already there, but after a moment’s thought he figured it made sense. Lunch was a big deal on the island, kind of like a local ritual or minor religion, and no more so than at La Mari Ses Roques. Arguably one of the best restaurants on the island, it was a place both to see others and, more importantly, to be seen.
The air conditioning washed its cooling welcome over him as Hyienna stepped through the dated glass doors and presented himself to the maître d’, a friendly young woman dressed in, surprise, a crisp white blouse and smart black skirt. Hyienna mentally checked himself, resisting the childish urge to shine the tops of his boots against his calves as he gave his name and reservation details. Glancing around, he wasn’t entirely sure if he was overdressed or underdressed as the patrons’ attire ranged from sharp business suits to casual jeans and shirts, although there was a notable and welcome absence of shorts and flip-flops.
If the maître d’ had any opinions about Hyienna’s sartorial sense, she kept her own counsel as she escorted him to a small but tastefully dressed table in the shade of an ancient grapevine winding around the open terrace.
Hyienna was glad of the shade as the day seems to be growing hotter by the minute. Although it would be cooler inside the restaurant’s air-conditioned dining room, that somehow seemed a little artificial, divorced from the organic interaction that was about to take place. No, outside was just fine and he could keep cool with a nice glass of Jean Leon Chardonnay poured from the sweating bottle waiting on the table.
A waiter appeared from nowhere and removed the cork for Hyienna to go through the ritual of tasting the wine to show his approval, like he was going to send it back once it’d been opened!
“Aren’t you going to pour me one of those?”
Hyienna looked up to see Nathaniel smiling down at him, wearing a white shirt. “Sure, and thanks for inviting me to lunch.”
Nathaniel folded his tall frame into the seat opposite. “My pleasure. You strike me as a singularly interesting kind of guy, and I think we might have a lot in common.”
Pouring his companion, a glass of cooling white wine, Hyienna settled back into his seat. “You make a habit of inviting strange guys out to lunch?”
“Not a habit exactly, but this isn’t the first time. If life has taught me one thing over all these years, it’s that the further I stray from my instincts, the further I stray from my true self as well as good fortune. I think that applies to most people, except those with really terrible instincts. Now my instincts are pretty good, and they told me you were somehow important and hopefully a new friend. We could all do with a few more of those.”
Hyienna tried to remain outwardly nonchalant, although his mind was racing with possibilities and speculation regarding the strange burden he’d recently been handed. Surely this meeting was too much of a coincidence. “The last person I mentioned fate to just got up and walked out, sticking me with the bill.”
Nathaniel chortled. “Serves you right too. Still, I have a good sense for these things, and you strike me as a man with a story.”
“We’ve all got a story, so what makes mine so interesting?” Hyienna briefly wondered if word of his difficulties on the mainland had already leapfrogged ahead of him.
Nathaniel just shrugged. “Like you said, we’ve all got a story and I have a sense for the unusual.”
“I’m unusual?”
“There’s no need for false modesty here.” Nathaniel picked up the heavy looking menu and opened it. “You know, this is probably the best seafood restaurant on the whole island.”
Hyienna picked up his own menu. “Good job too because I could eat a whole whale right about now.”
* * *
HYIENNA DIDN’T ORDER himself a whale but settled instead for what was easily the finest paella he’d ever had the pleasure of eating. Cooked with the freshest ingredients straight from the quayside, it was quite obvious why the restaurant had such a great reputation. It was also clear why Nathaniel had such a strange reputation. For a man who was curious about other people’s stories he seemed to be highly reticent about his own. Apparently, he’d grown up in an orphanage somewhere or other and he’d lived in Barcelona for a while, although he’d been very vague about his foster parents. He’d even had a brother way back, but apparently, he’d died in some sort of accident when they were just kids.
In truth, Hyienna wasn’t very surprised that his lunch companion didn’t want to dwell on that subject, other than to say his brother had drowned and how he missed him every day. That must have been rough, to grow up without natural parents and then to lose your only sibling. He could only imagine what that must’ve been like. All the same, Hyienna was left with the distinct impression that he was having lunch with a man who boasted a mysterious and no doubt very interesting past. Hell, maybe it was even a sinister one, although Nathaniel didn’t seem like the sinister type. Still, Hyienna’s own experiences had taught him the folly of judging a book by its cover, especially as this was just the latest in a chain of strange events that had befallen him since he’d set foot on this beautiful yet secretive island.
“You got room for dessert? You know the lemon mousse is really excellent here, and not too sugary if you’re watching your figure.”
Hyienna had no doubts about the lemon mousse, but somehow it just didn’t seem right to be ordering dessert on a stranger’s tab. It’s not like it was business expenses or anything. “No thanks, I’m good, although a glass of water wouldn’t go amiss.”
Nathaniel duly summoned the nearest waiter and ordered a bottle of Pellegrino before turning back to the table. “So, what are you going to do with your time here? The days are long, and this place has a brooding quality that gets under your skin if you spend too much time in your own head. I think most islands are like that.”
Although nothing had been said, Hyienna realised that Nathaniel was done with talking about his past, not that he’d been especially forthcoming to begin with. “So, how do you keep busy?”
True to form, Nathaniel answered without actually saying anything. “I have more than enough to occupy my time. In fact, you might say I’m on kind of a vacation, getting away from it all so to speak.”
Hyienna tried again. “Okay, so what do you do when you’re not on vacation and getting away from it all?”
Nathaniel grinned. “I collect people. That is, I collect stories.”
“Is that why we’re having lunch, so that you can collect me?”
Nathaniel’s eyes sparkled darkly. “A lovely lunch for whatever story you want to tell. Seems like a fair deal if you ask me.”
Hyienna couldn’t really argue, in fact he kind of felt like he’d short-changed his host by being so vague about his reason for being in Formentera. On the other hand, Nathaniel was still a stranger and lovely lunch or not, Hyienna had no intention of sharing his true reasons for escaping to the bright yet pensive Formentera. Instead, he just asked another question. “So, what are you, a writer or something?”
“I do write a lot, although whether that makes me a writer is more of a philosophical question.”
At last, Hyienna had to admit they’d reached a strange kind of conversational stalemate. Nathaniel wasn’t prepared to elaborate on pretty much anything, while he himself didn’t want to get into the details of his recent experience in Barcelona. In fact, a part of him couldn’t shake the nagging suspicion that Nathaniel already knew all or part of his story, and that was his real motivation for inviting a total stranger to lunch. It sort of made sense, although why Nathaniel would be interested in the story of some random loser afflicted by a streak of bad luck was beyond him. It wasn’t like Nathaniel was the gossipy type, in fact his tight-lipped approach to his own story marked him out as quite the opposite.
“Hey, you okay there?” Nathaniel cocked his head and waved his hand across the table.
Suddenly Hyienna was back in the moment. “Oh, sure. Sorry about that; I just kind of zone out sometimes when I’m thinking.” He resisted the temptation to reach for the little rock in his pocket.
Nathaniel didn’t seem ruffled. “Don’t apologise. Thoughtful men are a vanishing breed, and you should never be sorry for who and what you are.”
“Who and what we are isn’t always all that great.”
“Maybe not; but it’s real, it’s true and that’s what really counts.”
Hyienna was about to ask if a violent criminal should be true to his nature or whether he should try to change his ways, but he noticed that Nathaniel seemed to be off on his own kind of daydream. He watched curiously as the man who’d brought him to lunch mouthed something under his breath as he stared at the entrance doors to the terrace.
Hyienna followed his companion’s gaze and immediately saw that Nathaniel’s attention was firmly fixed on a man who’d just emerged from the restaurant.
Dressed in a crisp white linen suit and matching Panama hat, the new arrival was obviously used to commanding both the space and the people around him. His vibrant blue hatband and matching pocket handkerchief were clearly designed to catch the eye and make an impression before a single word was spoken. His dark, almost polished ebony skin gleamed in sharp contrast against his crisp white cuffs as he clasped the maître d’s hand warmly between both of his own. Whoever he was, this was clearly a man of some substance and one who took both himself and his appearance extremely seriously. Not only that, but the restaurant knew him well and took him seriously too.
Alas, the situation had spun out of control before Hyienna had the chance to utter a word. He found himself turning back towards an empty chair as Nathaniel crossed the terrace to engage with the new arrival. The tinkle of glass and the shocked gasps of patrons told Hyienna that the two men weren’t just exchanging pleasantries, even before he’d managed to swivel round to see what was happening.
When he finally did turn round, it took Hyienna a moment to take in what he was seeing. He hadn’t really known what to expect when he’d met a stranger for lunch, but not once had it crossed his mind that his companion would end up in a full-blown fight with some well-dressed pensioner.
The stranger’s seniority clearly meant nothing to Nathaniel as he pinned the older man up against the ancient vine, dislodging glasses and cutlery as he pressed his attack.
Despite being significantly older, the man in the linen suit was still quick and threw up a guard which prevented Nathaniel from gaining a hold around his throat. The older man’s lip curled into part snarl, part sneer as he locked eyes with his attacker.
Hyienna was instinctively on his feet within a second and pulling at Nathaniel’s shoulder. “What the hell? You trying to get us kicked out or something?” It was as though he wasn’t even there as both men pointedly ignored him while they exchanged greetings of hatred in some unfamiliar language.
Hat man scowled with an expression that almost defied description as he growled in some sort of African dialect. Although much older than the angry Nathaniel, there was something about him that counselled caution.
Neither man made an impression on Nathaniel as he leaned forward and spoke his own incomprehensible words.
The African accents reminded Hyienna of the way Seth spoke and he wondered, no he knew there was some sort of connection. He glanced around to see the maître d’ and a waiter hovering nervously on the sidelines. La Mari Ses Roques was hardly a sawdust bar, so the staff were no doubt wondering whether to intervene or to let the altercation run its course.
When Nathaniel finally spoke in English, his voice was low and measured, betraying a deep, cold fury. Bad blood didn’t even come close to describing his tone. “I’d heard a rumour that you were dead. I almost let myself believe it, but the world’s not that lucky.”
Although Hyienna had no knowledge of who the man in the hat might be, he could tell that the ageing patriarch’s eyes had seen things incomprehensible to him and viewed the world in a way so alien that they could well be from different planets. Above all, despite having no clue about what had just been said, Hyienna understood that the man in the linen suit was not someone to be trifled with.
Now the hat man switched to English too. “Every man possesses a finite amount of luck, and some much less than others.”
Hyienna jumped as Nathaniel lunged forward again, this time managing to grab the older man by the throat and pushing him further into the foliage. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t break your scrawny neck right goddamn now!”
There were more audible gasps from the assembled diners and the hovering waiter started forward as yet more glass and cutlery clattered onto the worn paving stones. In fact, the only one who didn’t seem angry or afraid was the man who appeared to be in the greatest danger.
Hat man deftly grabbed Nathaniel’s wrist with both hands and twisted free as he stared defiantly into the younger man’s eyes. “You think you understand loss; you think you understand suffering. You think my life belongs to you, when the truth is that yours belongs to me. Your brother traded all his future days for yours and now you squander his gift with your own selfish vendettas. You will never be the end of me, providence will not permit it.”
Hyienna grabbed Nathaniel’s elbow. “Hey, I just came here for some lunch, not get mixed up in whatever mess this is.”
Nathaniel turned and fixed him with a steely gaze. “Nobody’s asking you to get mixed up in my affairs.” With his grip broken, he finally turned away and stalked off across the terrace, quickly vanishing into the darkness of the restaurant.
Awkwardly stranded in no man’s land, Hyienna was intensely aware of the older man’s eyes fixed firmly on him as he watched the immaculately dressed stranger straighten his tie and settle the linen jacket on his slim shoulders.
With his wardrobe back in order, the patriarch looked curiously at Hyienna. “Your friend should know the folly of carrying such anger inside him.”
“Look buddy, he’s not really...”
The recent arrival adjusted his hat and sat stiffly at the ravaged table. “It is not wise to break bread with someone who is not your friend.”
“He could be a business associate.” Hyienna cringed inwardly as he wondered why he was even justifying himself to a complete stranger.
The old man waved a long bony finger up and down. “You are not dressed for serious business, even though your clothes are new.” Although his English was flawless, the strong African accent remained.
Hyienna was about to make a Sherlock Holmes quip, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling that he shouldn’t antagonise the well-dressed stranger. Although he was no musclebound scrapper like Seth, Hyienna knew he would have no problem picking up where Nathaniel had left off and wringing the old guy’s scrawny neck. At the same time, he instinctively understood that some terrible retribution would befall him if he even considered such a rash action. Besides, they were strangers, and he had no idea what may have passed between this man and his now departed lunch companion. Nathaniel’s long dead brother had been mentioned and Hyienna was at least wise enough not to step in the middle of that mess.
Clearly used to being in charge, the immaculate luncheon guest beckoned a relieved looking maître d’ across the terrace. “Please convey my apologies to Señor Mario. I had a mind for a large tuna steak when I arrived, but now I think I shall just take some of your excellent lobster bisque and be on my way. Oh, and please add this young man’s bill to my account.”
The maître d’ nodded and turned to hurry away, but Hyienna reached out and touched her arm. “That’s okay, I’ll settle of my own account.”
Caught between conflicting instructions, the maître d’ looked nervously at the man in the blue tie.
The man in the blue tie gave a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head.
With the casting vote finally settling the matter, the maître d’ hurried off.
Still awkwardly stranded in the middle of the terrace, Hyienna was again unsure of what to do next. He glanced around and noticed that the other diners were studiously staring into their plates once more. They obviously knew better than to pry too deeply into the affairs of the man in the Panama hat.
The man in the hat seemed oblivious to the broken glass and crockery at his feet as he leaned forward and righted a salt seller which had fallen over. “You should really learn to pay more attention to those around you. At any given time, the man in front of you can be your greatest friend, and also your greatest danger.”
Hyienna hoped he hadn’t been standing there like an idiot for too long. “I’m sorry?”
The man at the table wore an expression somewhere between interest and amusement. “Since you have neither the wit nor the manners to ask, my name is Kal and I assume that you are Hyienna, not that you have given me your name as yet.”
The alarm bells immediately started ringing in Hyienna’s head. “How do you know who I am?”
“This is a small island, a fact which makes such things very easy to guess.”
“Right. Well, I think I’d best be on my way.”
Kal shook his head sadly. “You will give yourself indigestion running around like this. Come, sit; perhaps take a little cheese and let your meal settle.”
“Thanks, but I think I’ve already outstayed my welcome.”
Kal waved his bony finger again. “Where I come from, food is not taken so lightly, perhaps because it was harder to come by in those days. In any case, food is a central part of the cycle of life. Without it we cannot live, and so other things must die in order to sustain us. In fact, food is the hub of life’s wheel, where all things are eating or being eaten. You young people simply shovel it down like coal into a furnace, which is why you are all so out of balance these days. You should let the wonderful food Chef Mario has prepared for you do its work before you go hunting once more.”
Hyienna had heard more than enough to convince him that Kal was a man best enjoyed from a healthy distance. He wasn’t quite sure how the immaculately dressed visitor had gained his strange attitude towards food, although he was certain that he didn’t want to hear that story. Besides, whatever Kal and Nathaniel had been mixed up was heavy stuff by anyone’s reckoning. “Well, I’ll try to bear that in mind next time I eat. I’ll see you around, Kal.”
Kal flashed his large set of immaculately white teeth. “Yes, you will.”
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