"It's not that I really believe in the curse,” Therese said unconvincingly, “but I just didn't know what else to do. I mean, I know that it's just a myth, but I didn't think it could hurt."

"Of course not,” Brenda said gently. “Therese, what does Brian think about all this?” Brian, Therese's husband, was the plantation's operations manager.

"He just shrugs it off. You know how he is. He says these things just happen on their own sometimes."

"Well, they do,” Brenda said. They did too, but this time she thought there might be more to it. “Um, is Brian around? It'd be nice to say hello."

"No, he's off communing with nature on Raiatea,” Therese said with no sign of irony, then added a small tinkling laugh: “I would have gone too, but of course I had to stay home with Claudine and Claudette."

Every year Brian spent a week or ten days roughing it at a favorite camping spot on the mountainous, barely populated island of Raiatea, a hundred miles from Tahiti, possibly the only man in history who considered Tahiti a place to get away from. He'd convinced Therese to come with him once-her first camping experience-and the much-pampered young woman had been appalled at the lack of comfort, hygiene, and amenities that went along with it She'd also been bored stiff, not that she'd admit any of it to her adored Brian. So when the twins came along later she'd used them as a heaven-sent excuse to stay at home while he continued to make his annual pilgrimage alone. She hated being apart from him, she'd told Brenda once, but anything was better than going ten days without a hot shower and doing your business in a hole in the ground.

"I almost forgot,” Brenda said. “Congratulations. I didn't know that you and Brian had gotten married."

"Married?” Therese said vaguely. “No, we're not married, we're-well, the same as ever. You know."