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She stepped away； looking fearfully beyond him toward the veil of the jungle； and then ran back to the farmhouse。
Goodloe moved around to the opposite side of the pen to the place where the fence had been torn open。 Stepping over shattered timbers； he knelt over the carcasses and examined the wounds。 The throats had been ripped wide open； veins torn and bone gnawed。 Large pieces of flesh and hair lay scattered at his feet。 The other hogs； still unsettled and fearful； stayed crowded together in a far corner； seemingly mesmerized by the lantern。 Goodloe stood up； stepped through cooling puddles and gazed off into the underbrush。 The things had attacked and killed like animals； but in the dim light they had appeared to be men。 They'd looked old and。。。 yes。。。 diseased。 Sort of like lepers： pieces of their faces missing； a two…fingered hand thrust out； a head covered with what looked like yellowish sores。 He trembled； staring off into the darkness。
And when he left the pen he began walking quickly for his house； knowing that whatever they had been。。。 men； animals； or some nightmarish breed of both。。。 they might be back； and there was a rifle under the bed he had to load。
Twelve
THE SHIP'S BELL mounted in front of Everybody's Grocers tolled six times。 As the morning light strengthened across the island； the Square was filled with people in all manner of clothing and a wild rainbow of bright hues。 There was much talking and laughing； and a couple of the island's musicians had set up their steel drums on the grocery's porch； intertwining their delicately sweet rhythms and motioning occasionally to an upturned hat used to catch coins。
There were tables of goods for Saturday market…bananas； coconuts； papaya； corn； tobacco； a myriad of vegetables…and beneath the shade of a thatched…roof shed there were large ice…filled buckets containing snapper； amberjack； squid； and grouper。 Bundles of sugarcane were arranged in stacks； and children paid for them by the stick。 There were cardboard boxes filled with chickens； and hogs grunting and pulling at the rope collars attaching them to poles in the ground。 An aged man in a straw hat sat in a patch of shade； moving back and forth in a rocking chair； telling ghost stories to wide…eyed children who crowded around to hear。 There was much probing and handling of goods； and voices were raised in the babble of haggling for the best price and determining whether corn grown to the east or to the north was the sweetest。
David Moore； carrying snapper fillets wrapped in newspaper under one arm and a sack of vegetables under the other； moved gingerly through the crowd； in the midst of its furious blare of voices； music； and colors。 There was a man selling drinks from a cooler； and Moore paused to buy a lime soda before being swept up again in the crush of people。 He saw people he recognized on every side； but no one spoke to him； and those who caught his gaze quickly looked away； whispering and motioning。 He knew he was an outcast because he had been the one who had found and freed the U…boat； he could feel the tension in those who looked at him； and somehow he felt ashamed under those hard gazes。 Moore was beginning to understand the fear in their faces after what he imagined he'd seen down in the U…boat。 Imagined？ Was it imagination after all； or the effect of the gases in that airless tomb？ The entire thing had been like the nightmares he experienced over the deaths of his wife and son； didn't he awaken shuddering and sweating from those； ready to curse God yet again for allowing it to happen？ But it had been so very real in the U…boat： the sounds； the smells； the apparitions rising toward him with gaping； awful faces。 Stop it！ he told himself； pretending to inspect a bunch of green bananas。
He had sat up half the night in the hotel's front room； drinking one dark rum after the next； holding the scorpion paperweight in his left hand and turning it before the bulb of a desk lamp。 The colors of the spectrum had gleamed through the newly polished glass； and the imprisoned scorpion was outlined in a dark； bloodlike red glow。 Sitting there； staring at the glass； feeling the warmth of the rum deep in his belly； he wondered what kind of a man had held it before him； in the cavernous darkness of the U…boat。 Inescapable fate； Moore thought； it had been inescapable fate that those men had gone down together into the Abyss； inescapable fate that he had discovered the U…boat some forty years later。 And now he realized his destiny had bee strangely interlocked with theirs； through time and circumstance。 He had raised the submarine from the dead； drawn to that ledge beneath the glimmering blue surface as surely as if there had been a path cut for him dropping down into the curling waves。 It was after three when he had finished the rum and put the paperweight aside； hoping he would sleep。 The terrible images still danced inside his head。
And this morning； as he made his way through the crowd of islanders； he understood their fear of the dark things they associated with the boat's decaying mass。 They held him responsible for its being on the island； as if he had brought up some kind of Pandora's box filled with。。。 what？ The things he'd seen in his hallucinations？ Jumbies； duppies； monstrous forms that crawled through brackish water like huge dark spiders？ He shook the visions off。 Voodoo superstitions； Moore thought； and not worth a damn。
There was some kind of motion on one edge of the Square； Moore could see several of the islanders stepping aside as if to make way for someone。 Heads turned； conversations stopped。 The wild clatter of laughter and talking began to die； slowly at first； from that edge of the Square outward； and was replaced by a low whispering and murmuring。 Moore couldn't see what was happening because there were too many people around him； so he walked toward a clear spot over by the hut where the fish were being stored。 A group of islanders parted and Moore saw Boniface approaching； walking slowly； guided by his cane and dressed in a black suit。 The glass eye around his throat caught the sunlight。 The man looked straight ahead； not even acknowledging the others but seemingly walking directly toward Moore。 Finally the outer fringes of the crowd grew silent in anticipation； and the drummers stopped their rhythms。
Boniface narrowed his eyes slightly； staring into Moore's face； and did not slow his pace until he was standing a few feet away from the white man。 Moore saw that the whites of Boniface's eyes were bloodshot； as if he'd been either drinking or smoking ganja。 Beneath the eyeglasses they appeared as inflamed； deep circles in the ebony face。 Boniface leaned forward on his cane； both hands clasped at its hilt； and studied Moore in silence。 Other eyes were on him； from all across the Square； and in the distance he could hear a woman hushing a group of children。
〃You've been inside it；〃 Boniface said quietly。
〃That's right；〃 Moore replied； meeting the man's gaze。
〃Are you a fool？ A madman； to disdain what I say？ God help you！ Ah； oui。 You see it as historical； a curiosity perhaps。 Would you so peer at the fangs of a snake？ And