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“That thief? Always said no damned good would come of the boy,” Tom said with a cackle. “What can I do for you? Skink?” He held up a green lizard that had been slumbering in his lap and Remi resisted the urge to recoil. It was over two feet long, with a triangular head and beady black eyes.
“Um, no. We’re here to ask about some of the old stories. Orwen felt you might be able to help,” Remi said, returning his smile.
“Well, I don’t know about that, but no harm asking. Can I get you anything? Water? Maybe soda? I’m a little low on supplies, but I can probably find something.”
Sam shook his head. “No, that’s fine. We’re good.”
“Well, come on and have a seat, then. What stories you want to know about?”
They sat on a makeshift wooden bench, their backs to the front of the house, and Sam cleared his throat. “Anything that might have to do with a cursed bay on the other side of the island.”
Tom’s eyes narrowed. “‘Cursed bay,’ you say?”
“That’s what the captain of the boat we were on said.”
“Why you care about some old nonsense like that?”
“We’re just interested in why such a pretty area would be considered taboo by islanders.”
Tom stared off into the distance and then grunted. “Sorry. Can’t help you.”
Remi’s face fell. “You don’t know any stories connected to the bay?”
Tom shook his head. “Afraid you wasted your time, folks.”
“That’s a shame. We saved a man’s life who was attacked by a crocodile there,” Sam said, hoping to score some points.
Tom showed no interest in the story. “Yeah, that happens. People go missing sometimes when they’re careless. Crocodiles are plenty dangerous around here.” He spat to the side. “’Course lots of danger around this place if you aren’t careful.”
“Really?” Remi said. “It doesn’t strike me as particularly dangerous.”
“Oh, it is. ’Specially you go poking your nose around where it don’t belong.”
“Like where?”
“Like that bay you talking about, for starters. And the caves.” His voice softened to a whisper. “Best not to get too close to the giants.”
Sam sat forward. “I’m sorry. Did you say ‘giants’?”
Tom nodded. “That’s right. Plenty of them in the mountains. Best to stay away and mind your own business. Stay in Honiara. Enjoy yourself. Be safe.”
“You’re saying there are giants here?” Sam asked again, his tone skeptical.
Tom grunted again. “Been here forever. And then some.”
“As in ‘big people’?” Remi clarified, surprised by the unusual turn the conversation had taken.
“Not people. Giants. Huge. They live in the caves and eat people. People aren’t their friend. Most country people know about them. They see them all the time.”
“This is a legend, right?”
“Call it what you want, I’m just warning you so you don’t get into trouble. You friends with Orwen. Wouldn’t do to be eaten by giants.”
Sam chuckled. “You honestly believe in giants?”
“Hell, boy, I seen ’em. Plenty of ’em, in my time. Over twice as tall as you, covered in hair. Meaner than that crocodile that ate your mate.” Tom spat again and then seemed to lose interest in the conversation. Sam and Remi tried to get something more out of him, but, while polite, he answered their questions with cryptic comments and generalities.
“Is there anything else we should know about besides giants?” Sam asked with a good-natured smile.
