The coins were lucky at least once.īelakang Mati does not have much, but our imbiah trees produce sap that burns better than any oil. Come back again, after this he will tell you how the Army of the Dawn tried to take him to the beach, but he bribed them to leave him behind. Old Long says that if you always keep at least one dollar coin with you, then you will never go unlucky. He takes smoke breaks every two hours, and sometimes when you leave your cash will smell like nicotine.Īsk for the dollar coin, which has the Eight Trigrams etched into its surface. He’s worn the same shirt since the war, with a tissue packet and bills clipped together in his pocket, slotted behind the cigarettes. His hairline now recedes like the shore and leaves ripples on the pale beach of his forehead. The money you get from Old Long is the luckiest on the island. Near the quay, see the brickwork moneychanger with a faded green awning that drips fetid rainwater onto the sidewalk. There is only one place to get your tithe. I realised too late that they carried the guns of conquerors. But that one sunrise, they flew the blue flags of cotton traders. In their mainland campaigns, they hoisted black sails, emblazoned with red sigils like sectioned suns. You cannot enter until you’ve paid your tithe to the martyrs. Place your bags by the door, but do not touch the lock. That was my set, to guide them past death. The lighthouse groans against the curve of the coconut trees, and its white paint has worn to grey, but its light leads boats through the naga’s beating whirlpools. The seas here are treacherous, as you surely noticed. In my earliest days, I kept the lamp burning with everlasting imbiah oil, drawing in the merchant ships that kept the island fed. In retribution for the occupation, the jinn turned the sky around, so the sun no longer rose on their backs. No, you’re not imagining it, the sun is now behind you. You seem disconcerted, checking your watch and looking upward.

It was nearly trampled by the Dawn, but like the island, it still stands. Your first day your first tilting steps off the crooked jetty.

Paid lighthouse keeper