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Bonnie had both arms around the palm and one bare knee drawn nearly level with her waist when Lucille finally decided that the attempt had progressed far enough to deserve comment. The trunk rose out of the pale grass at a slight angle before straightening toward the crown, rough beneath Bonnie’s hands but nowhere near as accommodating as it had looked from the ground. She had already discovered that there was considerably more technique involved than simply hugging a tree and going upward. Her shoes had been abandoned below. With the soles of her feet pressed against the trunk, she tightened her grip, pushed herself another few inches higher and refused to look down.
Lucille stood beneath the palm with Bonnie’s shoes hanging from two fingers. At six foot four she could have reached up and caught an ankle earlier in the ascent, although that opportunity was rapidly disappearing. She watched Bonnie squeeze her knees against the trunk, rearrange her hands and inch herself higher with determined little jerks. The afternoon was bright enough to make the water beyond the palms flash almost white. Farther along the coast the roofs around Nukuʻalofa showed intermittently between leaves, but here there was little besides the road, scattered buildings, palms leaning toward the sea and the heavy warmth that had settled over Tongatapu.
Bonnie made another gain and stopped there, hugging the trunk while she found her footing. She was perhaps twenty feet up now, although the distance had been fifty before she had even begun climbing and would almost certainly become a hundred by the time anyone aboard ship heard about it. The sailors responsible for the dare had dispersed with the peculiar speed of men who had successfully persuaded somebody else to do something foolish and no longer wished to become responsible for the consequences. Bonnie had barely permitted them to finish proposing it before taking off her shoes.
Lucille tipped her head farther back. “‘Broken neck by stupidity’ will be on the paperwork for the rest of your life.”
Bonnie’s mouth tightened. She was concentrating and did not intend to sacrifice progress for an answer. Her right foot slipped half an inch before catching again. She flattened herself against the trunk, waited until her balance settled, then pushed upward. The loose hair at the back of her neck had begun sticking there with sweat. There was something pleasing about the climb now that she had begun it, something satisfyingly ridiculous about being halfway into the leaves while Lucille remained below holding her shoes as though this were merely another minor inconvenience Bonnie had created during shore liberty.
The palm looked more impressive from this position. Bonnie could see beyond the line of vegetation toward the sea, deep blue outside the shallower water near shore, and for several seconds she forgot the people who had dared her and concentrated simply upon climbing. One hand higher, then the other. Feet repositioned. Knees tight. Push. The motions were beginning to make sense. She found a rhythm and gained another few feet with considerably more dignity than had accompanied the first several.
Below her, Lucille shifted into the shade cast by the trunk. She had not moved far enough away to suggest that she trusted Bonnie, nor close enough to encourage her. Her face remained composed, though there had been something suspiciously near amusement in it when Bonnie had first seized the palm. Now she watched every movement with the attentive patience of a nurse who had already identified the likely injury and was waiting to discover whether the patient intended to provide it.
Bonnie reached higher. The trunk was narrowing. The crown no longer seemed absurdly distant, although it remained far enough above her to demand another prolonged effort. She breathed through her mouth and pressed the side of her cheek briefly against the bark. Her arms had begun to ache. She could feel the effort in her thighs as well, but neither was yet enough to make her stop.
Lucille looked from Bonnie to the crown and then back again. “You know there’s nothing waiting for you up there.”
That nearly did it. Bonnie closed her eyes. The laugh began as a sound trapped behind her teeth. She tried to swallow it because laughing while clinging to a palm tree was clearly a poor improvement upon climbing one in the first place. Her shoulders gave a single betraying shake. She tightened both arms around the trunk and breathed carefully through her nose.
Lucille’s expression changed by scarcely anything. “Don’t.” Bonnie made the mistake of looking down. Lucille was directly beneath her, enormously tall and still rendered unexpectedly small by the distance, standing with Bonnie’s shoes dangling from one hand and her other hand planted against her hip. The sight of her there, solemnly supervising this entire idiotic enterprise, destroyed what remained of Bonnie’s discipline. She laughed against the trunk, tried to stop, snorted instead and immediately laughed harder. Her feet skidded several inches before she recovered them.
“Bonnie.” “I’m fine.” Lucille waited. Bonnie pressed her forehead against the palm and shook with another burst of laughter. Her arms were becoming unreliable now, not from exhaustion so much as the inability to keep her body still. She tried to climb once more, lifted one hand perhaps six inches, then abandoned the idea and clutched the trunk again. The crown swayed gently above her in the warm breeze, serenely indifferent to whether she ever reached it.
“I can’t,” Bonnie managed, breathless. “Yes.” That dry agreement sent another helpless shudder through her. She remained where she was until the worst of it passed, then cautiously began working downward. Descending proved immediately less amusing. She could not see her footing properly without twisting herself around the trunk, and the confidence that had carried her upward had not survived the realization of how far she had climbed. One foot searched unsuccessfully for purchase. She slid a few inches and froze.
Lucille dropped the shoes into the grass. Bonnie looked down again and found her directly beneath her now, arms raised. “I’m coming down.” Bonnie eased lower, slower than she had climbed. She could feel grains and fibres against the inside of her arms. The next movement brought another little slide, longer this time, and Lucille stepped forward immediately. Bonnie regained her hold, but whatever pride might have persuaded her to refuse assistance had already been laughed out of her.
“Keep coming,” Lucille said. Bonnie lowered herself another foot. Lucille could reach her calf now. One large hand closed around it, steady rather than pulling, and Bonnie felt instantly how much easier the descent had become simply from having someone below who was not going to let her fall. She moved again, Lucille’s hand shifting with her. When Bonnie came within reach properly, Lucille caught her around the waist.
“All right,” Bonnie said, still clinging to the trunk. “I’ve got it.” Lucille took more of her weight anyway. Bonnie released one arm and then the other. For a brief moment she was suspended awkwardly between the tree and Lucille, legs still braced against the trunk, before Lucille simply lifted her clear. Bonnie gave a surprised little breath as her feet left the bark entirely. Lucille stepped backward and lowered her as easily as though retrieving something from a shelf.
Bonnie’s feet touched the grass. Her knees folded slightly beneath her before she straightened. Lucille kept one hand at her waist until she was certain Bonnie was properly balanced, then let go and reached for the abandoned shoes.
Bonnie remained beside the palm, breathing harder than she intended anyone to notice. She brushed her palms against her clothes and inspected one reddened forearm. Bits of dry fibre clung to her skin. The tree seemed considerably taller from the ground than it had while she was climbing it, which struck her as profoundly unfair.
Lucille picked up the shoes and handed them over. She glanced once at Bonnie’s arms, once at her knees, conducting an examination without announcing it as one. There was no blood worth mentioning and nothing suggested that Bonnie had done herself any damage beyond acquiring several tender patches she would discover more thoroughly later.
Bonnie tucked the shoes beneath one arm. The laughter had faded into the lingering smile of someone pleased with herself despite having failed completely. She looked upward again. The palm continued into its crown with an accusatory amount of untouched trunk between the highest place she had reached and the leaves.
“I got halfway.” Lucille followed her gaze. “Nearly.” Bonnie turned toward her, Lucille continued. “Well none of the boys had the nerve to try so you’re leagues ahead, love.”
For another moment Bonnie studied the tree. She could reconstruct the climb from below now, spotting the places where the trunk offered better purchase and the section where she had wasted energy trying to pull herself up almost entirely by the arms. With another attempt she suspected she might manage considerably better. She also suspected Lucille would physically prevent another attempt if Bonnie moved too purposefully toward the trunk.
Her attention shifted instead to Lucille. Bonnie looked slowly from the palm to the top of Lucille’s head, then back up at the crown. At her height, Lucille already had an unfair advantage before she even started.
“You could do it in a bound.” Lucille turned her head. Bonnie’s smile widened. Lucille gave her a long, flat look in which affection had been deliberately buried beneath profound discouragement. One eyebrow rose just enough to finish it. Bonnie started laughing again.
Lucille pressed the shoes firmly into her hands and nudged her away from the tree, not hurriedly, merely with the expectation that Bonnie would recognise the discussion as concluded. Bonnie went willingly, still looking back over her shoulder once at the palm as they moved beneath the shade of the others.
The breeze came off the water and moved through the fronds above them. Bonnie slipped one shoe on, hopped twice while trying to manage the second without stopping, then surrendered and sat briefly on a low bank beside the track to put it on properly. Lucille waited in front of her, arms loosely folded, gaze travelling once toward the sea before returning to Bonnie.
Bonnie tied the second shoe and stood. There were smears along her clothes from the trunk and a fresh scrape near one elbow that had begun to sting now that she had noticed it. Lucille noticed it at almost precisely the same moment.
“It’s nothing.” Bonnie held out the arm. Lucille inspected the scrape with two fingers, turning Bonnie’s forearm toward the light. It was superficial. She released her without comment and started walking again.
Bonnie fell into step beside her, the sea intermittently visible between the palms. She managed several yards before glancing back once more. Lucille didn’t turn. “No.”Bonnie’s mouth curled upward, but she left the palm behind.