Specimen

SPECIMEN

The island appeared in the distance, a smear of tan and green between the dark blue sea and the pale blue sky. It looked to be only a dozen miles in length, lying very low on the horizon as if hoping to escape notice. 

Peter Flutterman in a white cotton suit and a straw hat stood on the foredeck, one hand gripping the deck railing as the boat crept up on the island. At his feet were a large suitcase, two portfolio-sized briefcases and a tubular case that looked as though it might contain a fishing rod. 

                                                            ~~~~~~~

As the boat approached the landing, a man came down to the end of the dock. He was wearing faded blue pants and a white shirt whose tails hung loose from his belt. A pith helmet sat low on his forehead. He looked to be in his mid-forties, the same age as Peter, although it was hard to judge with a full beard covering so much of his face. In any event, he looked well-preserved, unlike the typical islanders weathered by sun and wind. 

The boat bumped up against the dock. A deckhand slung a rope that slithered snake-like across the dock. The bearded man picked it up and wrapped it around a capstan. As soon as the boat was secured, the deckhands formed a line and began transferring a series of boxes, barrels and bales from the hold to the dock. From the cabin, the captain waved silently to the bearded man, lighted his pipe and shook out a newspaper to read. 

Peter picked up his tubular case and stepped over the gunwale. The bearded man reached out a hand to steady him as he stepped onto the dock. One of the deckhands added his suitcase and briefcases to the chain of dock-bound items. 

The bearded man embraced Peter. "It's been a long time, brother." 

"Walter? Is it really you, with a beard like a pirate?" Peter shook his head in wonder. 

"And what about you, with cheeks like a baby's bottom?" Walter touched the back of his hand to Peter's face. 

Peter tried to conceal his embarrassment. He wasn't used to being hugged and touched, even by his long-lost twin brother. "Where's your staff? We need help with this luggage." 

"We'll manage all right by ourselves." Walter picked up Peter's two briefcases, leaving his heavy suitcase where it lay. 

"I'll need that," Peter said. 

"My staff will fetch it when they bring up the load of provisions. Let's go up to the house and get you settled in." 

                                                            ~~~~~~~

They walked up a footpath towards a large house framed by palm trees. Beyond the house was a quadrangle formed by long sheds. As they approached the house, a butterfly gyrated across their path. Peter dropped his case and chased it with his hat but it rose into the air and fluttered into the trees. Peter donned his hat in dismay, feeling foolish he'd been so overcome by excitement that he hadn't extracted his butterfly net from its case. 

"You needn't have bothered," Walter said. "You'll see dozens more when we go into the jungle. You'll catch them two at a time." 

"I don't believe it." 

"Of course you do. It's the only reason you came." 

"I'd have come anyway. It's been too long since we've seen each other." 

"I've been writing you for years. First time I mention butterflies, you decide to come." 

"Oh, let's not start arguing. I've barely arrived and we're at each other's throats again."