DESTINY

THE ISLAND  By Tessa Harvey          Melati looked around the strangers' campsite on the island. The smell of breadfruit cooking was delicious and evoked sad and also happy memories of her people.     She liked these people mostly. The exception was the "devil." The young girl knew no other word for such wickedness that a son would attack his own parents and not only hurt their hearts but also their bodies. Her family had told her of such people as a warning because, although she was small, she knew herself to be thirteen island years old, growing up.     Once before strangers like these had come to their little village. They were warmly welcomed, given food and the indigenous people had held them in respect. Those people were of many colours - deep black, various browns like herself, and some more whiter-skinned. Two ot them had eyes that slanted in a different way, but her people knew that they were mostly ignorant of other places. ...

THE ISLAND  By Tessa Harvey     To the struggling men trying to reach the sandy shore, it seemed wonderful to see young Lester Shayle leading a group of five or six mostly able-bodied men towards them.     "The boy Dennis saw you leave for the beach. A nature girl helped him back to us. But....." Lester's voice trailed away. He knew the captain, Edward Starkey had been friends with Don and Dee from years ago in some college or other over in the States. But seeing how badly hurt the older man was, Lester faltered, wiping a grubby hand over his bristly face. Edward noticed at once. "What a blessing you are," he said, cheerfully.     Turning to one of the seamen in the small group, "Jones, can you organise a stretcher? There was at least one in the lifeboats we managed to salvage." Lester regained his composure.     Somehow the younger men carefully rolled Don onto the collapsible stretcher. They had to drag him carefully. Some of the passengers...

THE ISLAND  By Tessa Harvey          Thinking, well it can't hurt, Edward ran praying into the shallow water, staying in the sandy bits as much as possible, wary even now of the dangerously beautiful, harmful coral. "Don!" he called, almost weeping. "Don, hang on, I'm coming. Don, your wife is here. We have Dee. Dee is here!"      The last words seemed to touch the almost dying man. A glimpse of his battered face sent dread plunging into the captain's heart. Without words, he grabbed a handful of half a shirt stuck under the man's big round arms. They were scarred by sea, rock, coral and God knew what else, but the man was responding. He kept trying to say something, but his breathing was badly laboured.     "Captain, you have to hear," so exhausted and weary himself, the fallen ship's officer leaned on a large rock just offshore. "I'll listen if you keep breathing, okay! Don't die. Don't! I lost Taffy. I can't lose...