Island of the Sequined Love Nun

bar.
    "Hey, squirts, how you doing?"
    The boy with the spear stood his ground, keeping his eye trained on the downed bomber while the other children lost their nerve and backed away like scolded puppies.
    "We're Americans," Vincent said. "Friendly. We are bringing you many good things." He held the chocolate bar out to the spear boy, who didn't move or take his eyes off of the airplane.
    Vincent tried again. "Here, kid. This stuff tastes good. Chocolate. " He smacked his lips and mimed eating the candy bar. "You savvy American, kid?"
    "No," the boy said. "I no speak American. I speak English."
    Vincent laughed. "Well, I'm from New York, kid. We don't speak much English there. Go tell your chief that Captain Vincent is here with presents for him from a faraway and most magical place."
    "Who she?" the kid asked, pointing to the image of the Sky Priestess. "She your queen?"
    "She works for me, kid. That's the Sky Priestess. She's bringing presents for your chief."
    "You are chief?"
    Vincent knew he had to be careful here. He'd heard of island chiefs refusing to deal with anyone but Roosevelt because he was the only American equal to their status.
    "I'm higher than chief," Vincent said. "I'm Captain Vinnie Fuckin' Bennidetti, Bad-ass of Brooklyn, High Emperor of the Allied Forces, Pilot of the Magic Sky Priestess, Swinging Dick of the Free Fuckin' World, and Protector of the Innocent. Now take me to your chief, squirt, before I have the Sky Priestess burn you to fucking ashes."
    "Christ, Cap'n!" the bombardier said.
    Vincent shot him a grin over his shoulder.
    The kid bowed his head. "Christ, Cap'n. I am Malink, chief of the Shark People."

    The Sky Priestess came out of the smoke and took her place in the middle of the semicircle of Shark People. Women kept their eyes to the ground even as they pushed their children forward, hoping that they would be the next to be chosen. The Sky Priestess threw the tails of her scarf over her shoulder and the music from the PA system stopped abruptly. The Shark People fell to their knees and waited for her words, the words of Vincent. It had been months since anyone had been chosen.
    Malink rose and approached the Sky Priestess with a coconut shell cup of the special tuba they had made for her. He was as stunned by her now as when he had first seen her painted on the side of Vincent's plane.
    She drained the cup and handed it back to the chief, who bowed over it.
    "Still tastes like shit," she said.
    "Tastes like shit!" the Shark People chanted.
    Beth Curtis turned her head to suppress a smile and a belch. When she turned back to Malink, her eyes were fury.
    "Who speaks for Vincent?"
    "The Priestess of the Sky," Malink answered.
    "Who brings the words and cargo from Vincent?"
    "The Priestess of the Sky," Malink repeated.
    "And who takes the chosen to Vincent?"
    "The Priestess of the Sky," Malink said again, backing away a step. He'd never seen her so angry.
    "And who else, Malink?"
    "No one else."
    "Damn straight no one else!" She spat so violently she nearly disengaged the bow from her hair. "You told the Sorcerer that Vincent came to you in a dream. This is not true."
    The Shark People gasped. Despite what the Sky Priestess and the Sorcerer thought, Malink had told none of his people about the dream. But Malink was confused. He had dreamed of Vincent. "Vincent said that the pilot is coming. That he is still alive."
    "Vincent speaks only through me."
    "But -"
    "No coffee or sugar for a month," the Sky Priestess said. She pulled her scarf from her shoulders and the music began again. The Shark People watched as she walked away. There was an explosion across the runway and the Sky Priestess disappeared into the smoke.

24 – Valhalla: From the Runyonese
    Vincent Bennidetti was sitting at an oversized table dealing five-card draw to five other guys and relating the story of the crash landing of the Sky Priestess in hopes that the tale would distract his opponents from his creative shuffling.
    "So the squirt says to me, he says, 'I'm Malink, chief of the Shark People,' and he puffs up his little chest like I'm supposed to be impressed and drop down and kiss his ring, except he ain't wearing any ring; in fact, he ain't wearing nothing but a loincloth and a little hat made of palm leaves, so I says, 'Honored and charmed I'm sure, Chief.' And I gives him a grade A Hershey bar as a peace offering to assure that the kid doesn't get any ideas about ventilating me with his spear. Although I