‘I had no idea!’ Shame enveloped her. It had never entered her head that hearing impairment could’ve been an issue with Joe when he was so young and capable. She of all people should’ve known not to make assumptions based on people’s appearances.
‘Yeah. IED blast. The one where we lost Ste and Batesy.’
The pieces she’d been scrambling to put together slowly fitted into place. Of course, she’d heard of Sergeant Joe Braden. He’d been one of Peter’s best friends and that blast had made her brother finally experience for himself the worry and fear of losing someone close. It hadn’t been long after that he’d made the decision to change his career path completely. She hated it that his friends had suffered so much for him to reach that point and now she’d met the man behind the name, that blast held more significance than ever.
She sneaked a sideways peek at him. His strong profile gave no clue to his impairment. There was no physical evidence to provoke a discussion or sympathy. Unlike her, whose scars were there for the world to see and pass judgement on.
Over the years she’d heard all sorts of theories whispered behind her back. From being scalded as a baby to being the victim of a house fire or an acid attack, she’d heard them all. In the end it had been easier to simply cover the birthmark than to endure the constant rumours.
Joe came across as a stronger, more confident person than she could ever hope to be, but that kind of injury must’ve caused him the same level of anguish at one time or another. Someone like him would’ve seen it as a personal weakness when their whole career had been built on personal fitness and being the best. She barely knew him but she could tell that the word ‘courage’ was stamped all over his DNA. She was even more in awe of him now she knew something of his past.
As though he could sense her staring at the sharp lines of his jaw and the soft contours of his lips, Joe slowly turned to face her. ‘There’s a certain guide to drinking kava. You clap once with a cupped hand, making a hollow sound, and yell, ‘Bula!’ Drink it in one gulp, clap three times and say, ‘Mathe.’ You’ll be offered the option of high tide or low tide. I strongly advise low tide for your first time.’
‘Okay...’ She might’ve put this down as some sort of elaborate practical joke if it wasn’t for the twinkle in his eye and his excited-puppy enthusiasm while waiting for the ceremony to begin. In contrast to her reservations about the whole palaver, he clearly relished being a part of the culture.
He fell silent again as the villagers began to grind up the kava in the centre of the room. There were few women present but as the proceedings got under way she didn’t feel intimidated at all. The relaxed atmosphere and the men playing guitar in the corner of the room gave it more of a party vibe. Despite her initial reservations, she was actually beginning to relax.
After they ground the kava, it was strained through a cloth bag into a large wooden bowl. It looked like muddy water to her but the chief drank it down without hesitation, as did Peter and Joe. She was thankful for the advice when it came to her turn. Requesting ‘low tide’ ensured the coconut shell she was offered was only half-full.
It didn’t taste any better than it looked. Like mud. Bitter, peppery mud. Definitely an acquired taste but she drank it in one gulp and did the happy, clappy thing which seemed to please everyone. For unknown reasons the proud look from Joe was the one that gave her tingles.
In fact, it wasn’t long before her mouth and tongue seemed to go completely numb.
‘Whath happenin’?’ she lisped to Peter as her tongue suddenly seemed to be too big for her mouth.
‘That’ll be the kava kicking in. It’s a very mild narcotic but don’t worry, it’ll pass soon.’ Something that wasn’t bothering her God-fearing brother as he accepted another bowl.
She declined to partake in any further rounds, which her hosts accepted without any offence. Clearly she’d already proved herself as a worthy guest. Thank goodness. Any more and she’d either pass out or lose control of the rest of her faculties. All she wanted now was for Joe to take her to bed. Home. She meant home...
* * *
Joe had become accustomed to the bitter-tasting celebration drink to the point even a second bowl had had no effect. He was aware, however, that it might not be the same for Emily, especially as she was probably tired and hungry and currently running her fingertips across her lips. Numb no doubt from the small taste she’d had. He watched as she darted her tongue out to lick them, drawing his attention and thoughts to where they shouldn’t go.
Emily was his best friend’s sister and obviously running away from her demons to have come somewhere so clearly out of her comfort zone. She wasn’t, and couldn’t ever be, someone he could hook up with. Normally he didn’t hesitate to act on his attraction to women on his travels. Life was too short and so was his stay in their company when he was always on the move. This was an entirely different situation. Peter would always be part of his life and he wouldn’t jeopardise that friendship when he invariably moved on. There was no point thinking of her as anything other than a hindrance, a soft soul who’d probably never left her cosy office and would only get in his way. A liability he didn’t want or need.
Now she had been fully accepted into the community the villagers soon let their curiosity shine through and asked the questions he already knew the answers to.
‘Do you have a husband?’
‘What about children?’
The first question had thrown her, he could see it in her wide aquamarine eyes and knew why. Peter had confided in him about her marital problems long before her arrival because he’d worried how she might’ve been affected by it all. He’d taken her acceptance to help out on the mission as the first step to her recovery and had sworn Joe to secrecy. Not that it was any of his business anyway and he’d no wish to embarrass her by answering for her now. This was her call.
She took her time in finding an answer she was happy to give them. ‘No husband or children.’
It didn’t surprise him to find her divorce wasn’t a subject she intended to discuss. She wasn’t the only one who preferred to keep private matters out of the public domain. Only Peter knew about his past in the army and the fallout from the IED, and that’s the way it would stay. Much like Emily, he’d decided he didn’t need sympathy or pitying looks.
The gathering and the kava seemed to relax her more as the evening wore on, and she fielded their questions about her work without giving away too much personal information. A single, female doctor was something of a novelty out here and he understood their fascination. He was caught up in it too.
As usual, the evening ended with music and dancing, with both he and a yawning Emily watching from the sidelines.
‘You can go any time you’re ready.’
‘Really? They won’t mind?’ In contrast to her earlier attempt to cry off from proceedings, she now seemed apprehensive about potentially upsetting her hosts. That was the beauty of the people here. They were so warm and friendly it was impossible to feel like an outsider for too long.
‘Sure. You’ve done everything right and they’ll understand you’re tired. This could go on all night.’ He got up and helped her to her feet.
‘Peter?’ She waited for her brother to join her but he wasn’t as ready as his companions to leave.
Joe couldn’t wait for some time out from the crowd. Sometimes the white noise could be a bit overwhelming when he couldn’t pick out individual conversations.
‘You could see Emily to Miriama’s, couldn’t you? It’s on the way back to the medical centre.’
He couldn’t fault Peter’s logic since he was staying with