Chapter Eleven

Suddenly all we had was time, even though it took days to get to that point.

The urgency of finding terra firma passed. It wasn’t an island resort and it wasn’t home, but it was land and it was safe.

The urgency of finding fresh water passed. We weren’t dripping in bread and honey, but we had enough to eat so as not to starve. Rarely did we find ourselves hungry.

Time thus far was spent on urgencies; finding water, arranging the funeral, making tools and equipment, fishing, gathering, cooking, and exploring the beaches. Now all we had left was time.

Time circled itself again and again. Waiting was exhausting―more than the treks in the jungle, more even than rowing the boat pre-island.

We all had our own way to deal with the days upon days that passed now.

Kent Carson fished, ate, and napped―again and again.

At first I gathered fruit and plants that seemed edible. After a particularly awful day of vomiting following the testing of some pale yellow berries—sweet to the tongue but violent on the stomach—I preferred to avoid gathering fruit I didn’t know. So, I walked and walked. I walked as far in one direction as I could while still getting back to camp before dark. The next day I walked in another direction, and another the next, broken up only by treks for water or my mild attempts at fishing.

Blue preferred to come with me, even without invitation. He talked the entire time. I thought at first we were having conversations. Even though I didn’t agree with him a lot of the time, I quite enjoyed philosophical discussions. I eventually realized that these were certainly not true, two-way conversations.

One day it would be the totalitarian relationship humans have with the earth. I tried to justify what I could as though I were responsible for all of it. The next day he went on and on about Richard Dawkin’s, The Selfish Gene. It was all I could do to get a word in edge-wise about my own religious beliefs.

The discussions I enjoyed were the ones about literature and poetry, where his fanaticism melted to a simmer. An honest appreciation of the arts rose in its place. One day he shared his thoughts about the Sufist poet Rumi in comparison to the French Symbolists…

“Use Baudelaire for comparison,” he said, “since he’s one of the great symbolist poets, right?”

I couldn’t even answer before he continued. “So Baudelaire was an anti-humanist and an anti-naturalist. His poetry is constantly obsessing over sin and the devil.”

I knew I needed to think on my toes to get a word in. “Baudelaire considered himself Catholic, I think.”

“His poetry completely ignores the forgiveness and mercy of a god. He had no religious life. Rumi is considered one of the great spiritual poets. In Islam, of course, humans are not considered divine. They have a spiritual side and a good side but…yeah…so…” He continued as though I broke his train of thought. “Rumi’s poetry really focuses on trying to get to the self-realization and development of our humanity by realizing we are a ‘reflection’ of the Divine.”

These topics were as varied as they were absolutely meaningless to survival, but they took me outside the current situation. When we talked about beautiful things, it was Blue McCree talking about them. When we talked about philosophy though, it felt more like a recitation of some propaganda he read somewhere.

Eventually it became clear that the “conversations” we were having were one-sided. He was lecturing, giving sermons, and even talking at me―anything but talking with me. Around the time I began feeling annoyed by these “discussions,” my gaze and thoughts fell more and more on the quiet man in our group.

Musir worked at anything he could get his hands on. He made our boat shelter sturdier, created traps for small game, and even made a sundial so we could figure out what time it was.

We teased that a clock was as unnecessary as it could be in our situation.

“If someone were to go into the jungle alone,” he said simply, “we’d need to know how long they were away to ascertain if we had to go looking for them. It will also help us keep a calendar.”

So then we teased about the calendar.

I understood he wasn’t making these things out of necessity for survival. He could come up with some rationale, but the real reason was that he needed something to fill his days so he wouldn’t go mad with waiting, mad with the circling time.

* * * *

One evening as the sky was growing dusky, Blue and I were at our usual, making our way back to the camp after walking all day again. He talked non-stop about the sins of capitalism. It was all I could do not to shake him and demand he listen half as much as he spoke, for heaven’s sake. I didn’t even greet Musir and Kent Carson as we reached the fire.

“What’s the plan?” I asked. The frustrated tone in my voice surprised the group. “Are we going to live here forever or are we going to try to get off this danged island?”

“We’re going to get rescued, not live here forever,” Blue said gently. He annoyed me with his patronizing. “The island will continue to provide for us until the time comes, just as it has these last weeks.”

“We’ve explored in every direction we can walk in half a day. If we are going to explore this island further then we’re going to have to become mobile.”

“What do you think we’ll find?” Kent asked. “You must have seen the Full House episode where they get shipwrecked and find a resort on the island. Do you think we’ll find that here? I haven’t heard any luaus.”

“I’m getting antsy,” I said, “and frustrated. We need to have some kind of plan and not just keep sitting around.”

Musir didn’t say anything thus far. I looked at him to urge some agreement.

“This is the same question we had on the boat,” he said at last, “to move or to stay.”

“I voted to move then too,” I said.

“I voted to stay,” Musir said.

“Now?” I asked.

“Now I do not know the answer. I am restless as well, but hesitant to leave the signal fire. I want a healthy supply of fish and fruit, and the boat shelter…it seems reckless.”

“Moving worked before. We found this island,” I said, proud I made the right call that time and encouraged to be forward about this plan.

“It worked in our finding an island,” Musir said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“The goal of finding an island was accomplished by moving. My goal in staying was to get rescued, and that hasn’t happened by moving.”

I plopped down on the sand. “It hasn’t happened by staying either. Fine, I’m outnumbered. We’ll stay put.”

Blue put his arm around me. I could see Musir seething, but he was past insisting on a no-touching rule. “What’s the matter, really?” Blue asked.

I pulled away.

“Nothing, forget it. I’m going to sleep.”

I hoped no one followed me as I stomped off to the shelter. There was no way I was going to explain to three guys that I had the usual cramps signaling my period was just a few days away. I yearned for Tylenol or Midol or the tattered old heating pad my mom kept in our hallway linen closet and would fetch for me around this time of the month. I yearned even more for a box of tampons because I had no idea what I was going to do here on an island in a few days when I got my period.

I pulled my knees close to me as I curled up on the cool sand under the overturned boat. I hoped the pressure would ease some of the pain. The faces of my parents popped into my mind.

When will all this finally be over? I wondered over and over. I sobbed myself to sleep for the first time in weeks.

* * * *

All three guys avoided me the next morning. My hearty declaration wasn’t some kind of outburst, but evidently they were not comfortable with me having any type of negative opinion or emotion.

Fine, I thought, that’s just fine. People give me a hard time when I fly under the radar, and then they don’t like what I have to say when I speak up. Well, fine, if they don’t like it, they can just stay away.

I grabbed some smoked fish and a handful of nuts as the guys watched warily from around the fire.

“I’m going to the pool for a swim today. Do we have any water bottles that need filling?” I asked.

Blue hopped to his feet. “I’ll gather some. We can get going whenever you’re ready.”

“I’m going alone today,” I said, feeling a little mean but also rather bored of the hours of lecturing. “No hard feelings, I just need a little time to think.”

Blue stood there with nothing to say for once. Had I been cruel? He was a good guy, thoughtful and deep, who loved to talk with me. He even found me attractive. I could tell he was trying to impress me with his intellectual capacity. It was all I could have thought to desire, but dang, couldn’t a girl have a few minutes alone without hurting someone’s feelings? Hadn’t I told myself long ago that someday I’d go to the pool by myself so I wouldn’t need to worry about modesty and could just take my time? That day was today.

Musir stood up and folded his arms over his chest. “Are you sure it will be safe?” He turned to Blue and said something in Arabic.

Blue looked at Musir as though he didn’t want to look me in the eye. “Yeah, he knows no one is around to attack you but he’s wondering about you swimming alone, and how you could get hold of us if you needed help.”

“Thank you, but I think I’ll be okay. I can swim, rather well as a matter of fact.” I decided not to mention my years of swimming at Lake Havisu, Lake Mohave, and Lake Mead; the usual places we took boating trips. I realized I let them all fawn over me a little thus far. At first I really was scared and unsure. More recently I wasn’t so much scared as I was flattered to be the only girl, the one everyone else wanted to protect. It was better for me to own my own strength, but I knew it wasn’t fair to bite their heads off about it when I was the one changing the game.

“I appreciate your concern, guys, I really do. Give me one of those spears just in case, but I’ll be fine. If I’m not back by, say, noon you can look for me. Assume I’m all right otherwise.”

* * * *

The quiet walk did me good. My cramps eased with the movement, and I could clear my head without dealing with conversation. I did a quick survey when I got to the pool to be sure no one followed me and then stripped completely and dipped in. It was one of the few times in the entire time we were here that I felt comfortable being completely naked and not worried about who might see me. The cool water was instantly refreshing and cleansing. I rinsed my hair, detangling it as much as possible, and scrubbed my body. I alternated swimming around and then floating on my back. I looked up at the deep-jade leaves above me that slashed across the cerulean blue sky and imagined being somewhere else.

I dipped my clothes in the pool and rinsed them once I was done. I wondered how long I might be able to walk nude to dry off before having to put on the T-shirt and the cursed skirt. Figuring I could at least walk twenty or thirty minutes safely before getting too close to the beach for comfort, I looped my clothes over the spear to give them a chance to air dry. I hoisted the spear and clothes over my shoulder like a bindle stiff and began walking. It felt incredibly relaxing to be without the horrendously sweaty, dirty clothes, even for a short while.

Suddenly there was a rustling in the brush ahead of me. I rushed to move the spear in front of me, anxious to grab my clothes in case it was one of the guys. I kept the pointed end of the spear on alert in case it was something other than the guys. It didn’t take long before the beast showed itself.

A snake slithered out of the bushes. It was an enormous thing, nothing like the garter snakes in the yard at home. I guessed it was a boa constrictor and was sure it could kill small and mid-sized animals, maybe even monkeys. It probably couldn’t eat me, or maybe that was just hopeful thinking. It was hard to tell how long it was. I couldn’t see the back end of it. It was eight feet at least. A bite would surely make me sick and get infected due to the poison and lack of hospital care. Maybe he wouldn’t eat me, but his bite could kill me.

Instinct would be what―to run, to fight?

It didn’t have much time to mull over how to protect itself from the surprise visitor in the jungle. It convulsed its body in a flash and snapped its head toward me. I hopped back with adrenaline pumping now. It struck out again and again.

Instinct finally kicked in and took over my reflexes. I swung the spear toward the snake, whacking it right across the head and surprising myself with such an on-target hit. The huge snake flopped to the ground. It twitched and looked at me through dark eyes. I swung again and again, whack-a-mole style. I couldn’t stop myself.

I was finally fairly sure the creature was dead. My whole body was shaking as I edged closer, close enough to thrust the spear into the thing. I pushed in right below the head and through the spine, pinning it through its body. The spear sunk into the ground. Then the fear spread through me.

What if it got free? Weren’t wounded animals the most dangerous?

However, it was utterly dead and covered in blood. Blood also covered my clothes. The snake lay still. Fear melted into guilt at watching an animal die and being the cause. I vomited into the bushes, not taking my eyes off the snake.

I squatted on the ground. The realization set in that I was faced with a life-or-death situation on my own. I acted. It was an instinctual reaction, and it saved my life. If I could do that, I was probably going to survive on this island for as long as I needed to.

* * * *

I felt more like an Amazon woman than a girl from the suburbs by the time I re-entered the camp.

I felt primal, free, strong, and self-sufficient.

My skirt and T-shirt were peppered with snake blood. I would rinse them out in the ocean later but at the moment I didn’t much mind the stains. They were a reminder that I fought a snake…a freakin’ giant snake…and I won. What could possibly scare me in life now?

I popped the seams of the T-shirt sleeves and pulled them around my waist when I realized my skirt was too loose. I wasn’t going to keep tugging it up as I did these last couple of weeks. The lack of food was trimming me down. I needed my hands and arms, especially now.

My shoulders felt strong as I carried the enormous dead snake across them. I’d hacked off the head and buried it, just to be sure the creature wasn’t playing possum and planning to strangle me when I least expected it.

I returned to camp with dinner, and whatever we might be able to use the skin and bones for. I survived a tangle with snake!

I am woman, hear me roar.

The three guys jumped up at the sight of me covered in blood and rushed over. They stopped short when they saw the snake.

“Are you all right?” Musir asked. He pulled the snake off me and inspected my face, lingering for a moment on my bare shoulders.

“Yeah, this snake tried to attack me. I killed it with a spear.”

Blue looked at the limp snake body Musir dropped to the ground. “Did you have to kill it? I mean, could you have gone around it?”

Musir and I both glared at Blue, who shook his head.

“No, of course, sorry.” He answered his own question. “It’s such a beautiful animal. I…no…of course you couldn’t. It is a sad thing to see it destroyed, but I’m glad you’re all right.”

I sighed but didn’t feel guilty.

“This is no different from our killing fish these past weeks. I know you didn’t kill any yourself, but you ate what we caught. Now we have a different kind of meat for dinner, if someone can cook it up,” I said.

“I can skin and cook game,” Kent said. Those were his first words since I returned. “I did it all the time on camping trips with the boys. I never done snake before, but I can give it a try.”

He took the snake from Musir. Blue followed him for a moment before going toward the jungle to be sick.

Musir still stood staring at me.

“What?” I asked. I cocked my head and smiled.

“It was like Eve Triumphant. That’s how you looked coming from the jungle.”

“How do you mean?”

“Natural and beautiful, shining and triumphant with a dead serpent over your shoulders. All you needed was an apple in hand, unbitten, of course.”

“If I found an apple, I can promise you I’d have eaten it. Anyway, are you impressed or what?” Really it was all I could do to tease, because he described me in the exact way I felt coming into the camp; strong, wild, natural, primal, and organic.

“I am,” he said. “I can’t spear a fish, but you can spear a snake. If you are accepting requests, please will you catch a boar next time?”

“I was going to, but I couldn’t carry it back.”

“I should have gone with you―not to spear the snake or boar. Obviously you could manage that task. I could have helped carry them back and also made amends. If you still truly want to move camp, we can find a way. We can use the rope to float the boat and drag it along with us. We can find another spot with fish or —”

“No, let’s wait a bit. I think we may need at some point to have half of us go for a longer, multi-day hike to explore the place. We have a party of four, so there is the advantage of pairs; pairs staying and pairs going.”

“If they were the right pairs,” he said.

“You make it sound like you’d want to pair off with me.” I laughed. When did I get so bold? Maybe battling a wild beast made guys seem not nearly as intimidating.

“Well, yes, that could…” Musir stopped and looked at the top of my head.

“What?”

“Your hair wasn’t so blond before, I think.”

“No, I’m not blond. My hair’s brown, kind of a light brown.”

“It is blond now. I did not notice before, when you had it back. It is dark blond, like gold, with some pale gold―what do you call them…sections…stripes?”

“Highlights?” I asked, surprised. I hadn’t seen my reflection in weeks. I knew I was losing weight since I needed my skirt tied closer around my waist. I could see my skin was more tanned but blond highlights? Good heavens, what did the island have in store next for my appearance? Maybe I’d never have another break-out, and I’d grow a few inches. Maybe I’d learn the proper way to apply eyeliner and get a keen fashion sense. When we got rescued and I went back to school no one would recognize me. It would become all the rage to get shipwrecked for months as an organic makeover option.

Geez, blond highlights. I almost laughed out loud but stifled it.

“Yes,” Musir said, unaware of my silly inner dialogue. “It must be all the sun. Your hair gets wet and dries in the sun, over and over almost every day.”

He laughed. “Is my hair highlight blond now too?”

He held out a section of his midnight-black locks. I laughed and swatted him on the arm. He didn’t shrink away from my touch. Maybe he was finally loosening up.

* * * *

I stayed away while Kent Carson was skinning the snake since that part gave me a tinge of guilt. I did not want to feel anything but proud of protecting myself. I approached once he removed the skeleton and cleaned the meat. He was cutting it up into pieces of about three or four inches. It finally looked more like any meat from the grocery store and less reptilian.

“This is your first time cooking a snake?” I asked, sitting across the fire from him.

“Yup. This is your first time killing one?”

“Yeah, killing anything really, except fish. Geez, I guess I have killed a handful of things these past few weeks.”

“We’re surviving, so no need to feel bad.”

“Did you feel guilty when you used to hunt or fish?”

Kent pushed pieces of meat onto a stick to make something of a snake kabob. “At first maybe a bit, but I was young. I been huntin’ most my life. I eat the animals and don’t waste ‘em. It isn’t like I’m huntin’ bald eagle. I hunt what’s in season.”

“It is like your hobby, right?”

“Yup, kind of like that.”

He wanted to say more but continued to cut. I sat silently, watching but not really paying attention. I was lost in my own thought and replaying the snake attack again and again. I hardly recognized the girl in the instant replay. Kent finally spoke up again.

“You know how in your regular day you’re in your own civilized world, go to work, sit in this cubical for eight or ten hours—or in your case, sit in a classroom—with fluorescent lights all day? You suppress any feelings or impulses that have any umph to them?”

“Yeah, like any passion is discouraged unless it conforms to the proper boundaries and limits set for us.”

“Exactly. Inside you have this wild person, someone real, someone primitive, who strains against that civilized world. I played football when I was your age. All that competition, running, and tackling was primitive. Hunting is too.”

“I get what you’re saying, but with hunting….I just don’t think I could do it.”

I really didn’t agree hunting was a sport because one competing team had guns and the other didn’t. However, this was the closest to an honest conversation I had with Kent Carson since the first day we fished together when he launched into I Know What It Is To Be Young. Evidently we were going to be here on the island a while. It made sense to be able to see him as a fellow human being, and not just the odd man out in the group.

He held the kabobs over the fire, rotating them slowly. “They won’t have much flavor without some barbecue sauce, ketchup, seasoning or somethin’, but it will be a nice change from fish.”

“Thanks for cooking it.”

“Yeah, no problem, missy. I know how women love it when a man can cook. Do you want pancakes or eggs for breakfast, baby? That’s what I ask ‘em.” He laughed. He was obviously joking, but not amusing me.

My face must have expressed the sickness suddenly spreading throughout my core. I thought I could hide it better.

“Aw, come on. I’m just kidding. I want this dinner as much as anyone. I ain’t cookin’ it just for you. You have your choice on this island. Even though I’m not sure which one you’re gonna ‘have breakfast with’, I’m not so delusional to believe it’s me.”

My mouth dropped open.

“I’m not going to sleep with anyone here. I’m not some trampy girl!”

“Don’t get all indignant. I’m just teasin’. Let’s get back to our nice conversation. You say you couldn’t hunt, but you did. You killed this snake.”

“I didn’t do it for fun,” I said. I tried to push down my irritation and get back to seeing him as a person, not my enemy, albeit one with a very different view of what was funny than me.

“How did it feel?”

“Scary?” I didn’t like the way the answer came out, like it was more of a question than an answer. It was as though I was asking him how I ought to have felt.

“Maybe when it was happening, but you really got a good shot here. You must have been acting on adrenaline. I saw you walkin’ out of that jungle. You were walkin’ taller with a snake around your shoulders than you have all month. You felt a little wild, didn’t you?”

I blushed.

“No, no, not in a dirty way. I mean in a caveman-type way―or cavewoman in your case.”

“That’s exactly how I felt.”

“It felt good, didn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Kent’s grin was clear through the flames of the fire. “Because we’re not meant for fluorescent lights, cubicles, classrooms, saying please and thank you, perfectly mowed lawns, and smooth pavements. We’re made wild. The world tames us. It just feels good to be wild a little now and then.”

* * * *

Blue couldn’t bring himself to eat the snake. The rest of us agreed with Kent’s assessment that it didn’t taste like much without seasoning or marinade. He kept saying that he wished we had some ketchup or barbecue sauce. It wasn’t like he wanted it for himself, but as though he were apologizing for the outcome of the meat. It was sort of dry like white chicken meat, but a little fishy too, if in smell only. It was different to our usual. We all agreed that made it good and praised his fine work on the cooking.

Blue went to the boat after dinner to call it an early night. I followed.

“Are you okay?” I asked, ducking underneath the boat shelter and settling on the sand next to him. I wasn’t sure what else to say. I wasn’t going to apologize for the snake, but I also didn’t want him to feel mad at me without at least attempting to talk it over.

“Sure, I’m fine.”

“If you’re mad about the snake…”

“I’m not mad.”

I sighed.

“Okay, well, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s all right too. If you do, don’t waste time pretending all is well, planning to talk about it after I ask you a dozen times. We won’t have nearly enough time for that. You do realize Musir is going to be in here in about two seconds to make sure we’re not fornicating, don’t you?”

Blue smiled for the first time that night. “Okay, good point. It just made me uneasy. You had to protect yourself and that makes sense. I hope it didn’t offend you that I couldn’t eat it. I just couldn’t. It wasn’t that I was mad. It still touches me to see animals hurt. I know that’s not macho, but there you go. This is who I am.”

I put my hand on his forearm. “If taking pleasure in seeing animals hurt is macho, then I would never hope for someone to be macho.”

It didn’t come out how I wanted, but it was honest.

Blue’s skin warmed under my touch. His focus changed. “Isn’t it funny how Musir still follows us around?”

“Yeah, as though immodesty will abound within the camp if we happen to be alone together!” I laughed. “Of course we’ve walked many days all day and we remain honorable. I don’t know why it being at night makes it so different.”

He moved close, surprising me. Evidently this was not a light-hearted, hypothetical conversation to him.

“Why hasn’t anything happened?” he asked in a low voice.

I was caught off guard. All I could manage was, “I—I don’t know. I mean—”

“Are you at all attracted to me? I know I’m bookish and skinny. Maybe you think my passion and idealism is kind of geeky or whatever. Do you think of me as anything but a friend?”

He didn’t give me a chance to respond before going on.

“I find you intriguing. When we talk, it’s like a meeting of the minds. Even when we disagree, we’re on the same level. You’re pretty too. While I just get scrawnier and lankier during the ordeal on this island, you get more and more beautiful by the day. Why has nothing happened between us?”

He wasn’t going to give me a chance to respond, again, and was already leaning in. His lips were close when we heard a rustling of the tarp. He pulled away immediately, assuming it was Musir.

Kent Carson popped his head in.

“Oh! I didn’t know this room was taken.” He laughed. “Naw, don’t get all offended. I wanted to see if you’re okay, Blue. You didn’t want any snake because it didn’t look good? If so, it ain’t my fault. I didn’t have anything to prepare it with. Snake ain’t much good without some barbecue sauce or ketchup or something.”

“He’s okay,” I said. “It wasn’t you.”

Kent looked from me to Blue and back, realizing he really had just cut in on the very start of something. “Yeah, okay, sorry. I’m tellin’ you both though, if I had some ketchup, we’d be really rubbin’ our bellies.”

He left and muttered outside the tarp, “She keeps saying she’s a good girl. Am I the only one here still believin’ it?”

I hoped Blue didn’t hear the complaint.

He couldn’t have because he laughed. The mood was lighter now but no longer held any potential for romance.

“This reminds me of that Steinbeck book, the one with George and Lennie,” he said.

“Of Mice and Men.”

“That’s the one.”

I quickly remembered the scene he was thinking of and quoted Lennie Small: “I wish we had some ketchup…”

“Whatever we ain’t got, that’s what you want!”

I laughed at his false accent. “I don’t need no fancy foods like snakes with ketchup!”

We both laughed. Romance dissipated but a lightness of heart returned.