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shook his head. “You’re a tough bunch.” He looked at Tristan and then flicked his eyes only briefly at the bowl. It was enough. Tristan sucked air in through clenched teeth to produce a brief squeaking sound – an iconic island gesture of displeasure called chupps – and then roughly pushed the bowl into Pips’ hands.
    Nate felt a pang of satisfaction, but let it go as quickly as it came. Tristan could be an ass sometimes, but he was still an OK guy. And he always had interesting things on the go. Nate looked at him and noticed the boy was wearing a homemade slingshot around his neck: the Y of a branch, a leather pouch, and two rubber strips cut from an inner tube. And when Tristan noticed Nate looking, he casually swung it over his shoulder so that it dangled out of view behind his back. Nate pretended not to care, but what he really wanted was to hold it, maybe even try it out.
    â€œWhat took you guys so long?” said Nate dismissively. “The party’s half over.”
    Tristan was watching Mrs Patterson, his eyes locked on her while he spoke. “Maria’s having a sleepover. We had some watching to do first.” A moment later Tristan and Richard dissolved into a fit of half-stifled giggles.
    Nate raised his eyebrows. “You guys were spying on your own sister?”
    Tristan objected. “Hey, it’s Richard’s sister – she’s just my cousin.”
    â€œOh, that’s so much better,” said Nate.
    â€œYou’re both perverts,” said Pip. And then he added, “What did you see?”
    â€œSmokes,” said Tristan.
    Pip’s face furrowed with confusion. Then he saw Tristan was watching the party again, and a box of cigarettes in particular. They belonged to Sweaty Scoocher, and sat on a side table at the very peripheral of the party, not far from the shadows hiding the boys.
    Nate threw up his hands in exaggerated drama. “Don’t do it, Tristan. My mom will freak if she catches you stealing. She’ll call your dad for sure.”
    â€œOoh! Gonna tell your mama!” Richard teased.
    Pip laughed. Everyone wanted Tristan to do it. Even Nate.
    Tristan stood and rubbed his hands together. “Is there anything you guys aren’t scared of? Jenn fi. ”
    Richard, as usual, obliged with a translation: “He called you little girls.”
    Nate and Pip played it up and giggled like schoolgirls, but they got nothing more from Tristan.
    He was making his move.

 
    6
    Â 
    Present Day  
    Â 
    Smiley sat patiently while Nate wrestled with the question.
    It would be easy for Nate to just tell him what he knew about the Bolom – what he’d heard, what he’d read in the years since he left the island, and what he knew from firsthand experience. It was simple, really. It was nothing more than just a series of statements about what Nate believed – knew, at least as a child – to be true. But the thought of even the smallest detail added yet another, and then another. And before he’d finished drawing a single breath, that simple series of statements had taken on so much more substance, so many more layers; it was like candy floss being blown onto the paper holder.
    â€œMa Joop!” called Smiley over his shoulder. In the rickety building, the large woman who had served accra and beer looked around the doorjamb. “Ma Joop, we need more beer here, please!”
    Nate looked over to the woman and took her in for the first time that night. He had seen her a few hours ago when they first met, of course, but he’d merely said hello, eager to get back to what Smiley had to say. But now, in the aftermath of a half-dozen cold Heinekens, and while Smiley joked with her and laughed out loud, he took his first real look.
    Ma Joop was a woman of generous proportions. She was probably in her late forties, and moved in practiced, deliberate ways, as if each move cost her greatly. Her hips were