Nation

crabs, Mau thought, as they dragged a heavy box down to the beach. The figs fall out of the trees, and that’s all they know. Can’t we be better than them?
    “I want to learn trouserman,” he said as they sat down to rest before going back inside the stifling, smelly heat of the wreck yet again. “Can you teach me?”
    “What do you want to say?” said Pilu, and then he grinned. “You want to be able to talk to the ghost girl, right?”
    “Yes, since you ask. We talk like babies. We have to draw pictures!”
    “Well, if you want to talk to her about loading and unloading and pulling ropes, I might be able to help,” said Pilu. “Look, we were on a boat with a lot of other men. Mostly they grumbled about the food. I don’t think you want to say ‘This meat tastes like you cut it off a dog’s arse,’ do you? I know that one.”
    “No, but it would be nice to be able to talk to her without asking you for words all the time.”
    “Cahle is saying the ghost girl is learning to speak our language very well,” Milo rumbled. “And she makes better beer than anyone.”
    “I know! But I want to talk to her like a trouserman!”
    Pilu grinned. “You and her all by yourselves, eh?”
    “What?”
    “Well, she’s a girl and you are a—”
    “Look, I’m not interested in the ghost girl! I mean I—”
    “Leave it to me—I know just what you need.” Pilu rummaged in the heap of things they had already taken from the wreck and held up what looked to Mau to be just another plank but, after Pilu had banged at them and hammered at them for a while, turned out to be—
    “Trousers,” said Pilu, winking at his brother.
    “Well?” said Mau.
    “The trousermen ladies like to see a man in trousers,” said Pilu. “When we were in Port Mercia, we weren’t allowed to go ashore unless we wore some, otherwise the trousermen women would give us funny looks and scream.”
    “I’m not going to wear them here!”
    “The ghost girl might think you’re a trouserman and let you—” Milo began.
    “I’m not interested in the ghost girl!”
    “Oh, yeah, you said.” Pilu pulled at the trousers for a moment and then stood them on the beach. They were so encrusted with mud and salt that they stayed up by themselves. They looked fearsome.
    “They’re powerful magic, they are,” Milo said. “They’re the future, sure enough.”
    Mau tried to avoid crunching the red crabs when they went back along the track to the wreck. They probably didn’t know if they were alive or dead, he thought. I’m certain they don’t believe in little sideways crab gods, and here they are, after the wave, as many as ever. And the birds knew it was coming, too. We didn’t. But we are smart! We make spears and trap fish and tell stories! When Imo made us out of clay, why didn’t he add the bit that tells us that the wave would come?
    Back in the Sweet Judy , Pilu whistled cheerfully as he levered up planks with a long metal bar from the toolbox. It was a jaunty tune and unlike anything Mau had heard before. They used to whistle the dogs when they were hunting, but this sounded…complicated.
    “What is that?” he said.
    “It’s called ‘I’ve Got A Lovely Bunch of Coconuts,’” said Pilu. “One of the men on the John Dee taught it to me. It’s a trouserman song.”
    “What does it mean?”
    “It means I’ve got a lot of coconuts and I want you to throw things at them,” said Pilu as a piece of the deck began to come free.
    “But you don’t have to throw things at them if you’ve already got them down from the tree,” Mau pointed out, leaning on the toolbox.
    “I know. The trousermen take coconuts back to their own country and stand them on sticks and throw things at them.”
    “Why?”
    “For fun, I think. It’s called a coconut shy.” The plank came up with a long-drawn-out scream of nails. It was a horrible noise. Mau felt that he was killing something. All canoes had a soul.
    “Shy? What does that mean?” he said. It was better to talk about nonsense than about the death of the Judy .
    “It means coconuts want to hide from people,” Milo volunteered, but he looked a bit uncertain at this.
    “Hide? But they are in the trees! We can see them.”
    “Why do you ask so many questions, Mau?”
    “Because I want so many answers! What does shy really mean?”
    Pilu looked serious, as he always did when he had to think; generally he preferred talking.
    “Shy? Well, the crew said to me, ‘You’re not