by Daya Daniels
I knew enough about the vegetarian cloud she’s been floating on for years now, just never thought about it much. Tenley said fish is better than red meat…less injected hormones. I then informed her about how many people piss in the sea. With a bright laugh, she then gave me all the statistics about the high salt content of our self-cleansing ocean and how it has a salinity content of roughly 3.5% which means that for every one thousand milliliters of sea water there is about one point two ounces of salt contained within it.
Blah, blah, blah.
Anyways, what I would do to kill a fucking bird around here…
I was surprised she didn’t start on the cigarettes. Sigh. I smoke them sparingly, sneaking off whenever I can to be alone and have a smoke. You might think stretching cigarettes out for as long as I’ll need to isn’t possible, but believe me it is. It will be…And during those moments of pause, I worry, I curse the sky and God and then I think about what we will have for dinner.
After standing on the deck and observing the rain and the straight lines it fell with, my eyes slipped through the thick strands of it and landed on the beach. The water had turned an intense dark blue, much like the blue it was the day we arrived here on that piece of boat. It was so blue under the cloud cover it almost looked black. And there it was…another dorsal fin, circling in the water and edging the reefs where it must’ve gotten trapped when low tide had set in.
Because of that I’d set rules—ones we’d live and die by around here. I’d said them over and over to Tenley and even Peni that no one sets foot in that beautiful water unless we can inspect it first together. Even Peni nodded as though she understood my words that were spoken with such fierceness that I even scared myself a bit when I had barked them. Just the thought of having to deal with one of us being maimed by a shark while being here and having no medical supplies or an ER nearby is enough to catapult me into cardiac arrest. One of us would die. I have no doubt that the afflicted would perish.
And we can’t die out here.
I won’t have it.
They’ll find us.
They’ll know where to look.
Everything will be fine.
And then after all the rain, the temperature had cooled, and the fog had set in so thick and white it was as if we were existing in the middle of a dense cloud. It was beautiful.
Peni’s giggling yanks me back to the present. She and Tenley are playing a game using blocks I’d carved. Tenley stacks them up and then I think Peni is counting them.
She’s smart.
Monkeys always are, aren’t they?
Often, I wonder if they’re smarter than people half the time.
The sight of it all only puts questions on my tongue.
When Peni is done, she crawls into Tenley’s lap for a hug, curling her arms around Tenley’s neck and planting her face in the crook of it. Peni likes hugs. I like hugs too…
Laughing at my own thoughts, I look around.
Night has fallen. The crickets chirp endlessly and a soft salty wind floats over us.
I glance down at my bare feet and absorb how they feel atop the cool wood. Then I’m examining the fish I’d just grilled and the colorful vegetables to go along with it which rest on a large makeshift platter that’s really just a lightweight piece of wood. Although I hadn’t used it, I now stand in front of what I think is a stove. Or at least what’s been used in the past as a cooking area since the paneling which surrounds the empty space is all metal.
I set the platter down on the table to my right and run a hand through my hair examining the stove. And then I smile. “Whoever built this place just thought of everything.”
Tenley laughs. “I know.” Her brows arch. “Didn’t they?” Tenley laughs. “There’s even a sink-like thingy in the shower room. Or the toilet room or whatever you want to call it. It’s a metal basin affixed to a carved-out log which transports the water which falls on the roof to it.”
I nod. “I see.”
Tenley lifts a brow. “It’s quite clever.”
With my eyes fixed on the bathroom door, I make a face. “I’m pretty sure if I put some thought into it, I could turn that into a real bathroom.” I gaze up at the roof and think of all the water collection potential with the rain and I have an idea I’d need a few days to test.
Tenley grins. “I’m sure you could.” She fiddles with the hem of her dress.
“I mean, look at this place…” I gesture with a hand, lower it, and stare at the contraption outside on the deck in its very corner that’s surrounded by metal. It took me almost an hour to realize it’s actually a stove which has been constructed in the vicinity of non-flammable materials and cordoned off from the rest of the home. Another one of those carved-out logs rest to the side of it.
Whoever had constructed this house kept the water flow in mind. It drips a little. Something up there is keeping it from flowing completely. I gaze up at the roof realizing I’ll actually have to climb up there to find out what’s going on. The task is daunting considering the height of it. I’ve never been good with heights, but I keep that to myself.
Now, I stand in front of the makeshift stove, tilting my head from left to right, impressed.
I run a hand over my jaw while thinking back to the old days of when I was at MIT. In class, we’d have lively discussions about what a person would do if they were ever stranded in some remote part of the world with nothing but a knife and a handful of tangerine Tic-Tacs. The professor was lobbed all sorts of responses from students who professed that they’d build a tunnel, an ark, a boat. We were all overzealous and adamant about what heroes we’d become if we were ever stranded somewhere and found ourselves clinging to our own mortality. Back then, I’d told the professor that I’d build a treehouse to which all my fellow classmates had looked at me like I possessed a malfunctioning brain. I then explained that it would act as protection and a great vantage point to gaze out at the sea. You’d have endless shade from the sun which means it would stay cool enough even in the heat and the tree itself would also be a never-ending source of water.
So, to have this house at the tips of my fingers is mindboggling. This place is here, built and clearly already lived in and I scratch my head at how it was truly done.
Honestly, it’s a modern marvel.
And whoever built it deserves much praise.
“You’re daydreaming.” Tenley’s voice cuts into my thoughts. And when I spin around, she’s standing right in front of me, fingers clutching the platter of food. “We can think about all the ways to make this house work better tomorrow. It’s late.” She exhales. “We should eat and get some rest.”
“Yeah, yeah, yes, absolutely.” I point to the branches. “I was just trying to figure out a few things.”
“I know.” She smiles.
In the few minutes I’ve been stuck in theory land, Tenley had already tidied up the place. She’d stripped the bed and now sheets cover it and so do a few pillows. She’d even made Peni her own bed which she’s already lying in with a sheet tucked up to her neck, her eyes droopy and tired.
A candle flickers dusting the room with warm light and a wonderful scent.
It all feels comfortable as uncomfortable as we are.
Tenley takes the platter, heads over to the table and sets it down. I ease down into the chair opposite her. We stare at each other for a moment. And then, hesitantly, she bows her head and puts her hands together in prayer. “I don’t normally do this, Brooks, but with everything that’s happened today, I couldn’t be more grateful.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Okay then.
“God bless this food that we’re about to eat.” She lets out a loud breath. “And we know we probably don’t deserve your mercy, but I think we’ve received a lot of it today.” She looks up to the heavens. “And we were hoping you could keep a lot more of it coming, because we really need it.” Her eyes water even though she smiles. “Thank you. Amen.”
“Amen.”
W
e dig into the food with our fingers.
The rain is falling again and the breeze that does make its way into the house causes the candle to flicker.
I’m exhausted.
And by the looks of Tenley, so is she.
A bucket rests next to the bathroom door and on the table just outside of it are soap and towels. And then my gaze lingers on the bed.
Tenley follows my eyeline. “We can take turns. You can sleep in it a few nights and then I’ll sleep in it on the others.”
I suck the fish off the bones. “No, don’t be silly. I’m fine sleeping on the floor, Tenley.” I gesture with a hand. “Please, you can take the bed. I’m not bothered really. I wouldn’t feel right with you sleeping on the floor, ever. Please, I insist.”
She lets out the loudest breath in history. “Okay then, fine. But don’t start complaining when your back is stiff, and you can barely stand because although the temperature is even…” She slides her foot over the floor, testing it. “This wood is cold.”
My eyes dart around knowing she’s likely right but still my offer won’t change.
Tenley’s eyes are on me. “I think it’s part of what keeps this place cool.”
“Yeah, probably.” I continue to eat having no desire to entertain her ideas.
I won’t have her sleeping on the floor.
James would have my fucking head.
It’s quiet for a while, both of us just eating but the worry is palpable.
Tenley stares at the table for so long I don’t think she realizes she’s drifted away from this meal.
Reaching out, I place my hand over hers and smile. “They’ll find us.”
“Do you promise?”
I pull my hand back and look away from her. Then I find the courage to face her glowing eyes. “I can’t promise. But I can hope, Tenley. We-can-hope.” Because it’s all we have…My eyes narrow. “What happened to all the assurance you had when we first landed here about your belief that the great Richard Cushing would never leave us out here?”
Her shoulders fall. “It’s been too many days, Brooks, I don’t know. I-I-I guess I just thought we’d have been rescued by now. But we will be.” She perks up. “We will be.” Then, she frowns.
The mixture of emotions on her features is giving me severe whiplash. Her mouth opens to speak but then she decides against it and looks away from me.
“What is it?” I place my hands firmly on the table.
Her thin brows crash together. “When I was a girl my father used to tell me stories about explorers and their adventures and what would happen to them when they were too far from home…”
“And...”
“Richard believed that explorers were dreamers and that half the time what they hoped to discover was never there at all. He’d talk about how people loved to believe in things that weren’t real. I’d challenge him. And then the conversations would taper off into real life examples of how people often deny the existence of the truth and believe what they want to believe.”
I wait for Tenley to go on.
She huffs. “Like for example, the man who’s dying from cancer and wants to believe he can fight the disease, but deep down, he knows he’s going to die, eventually, with its diagnosis. Or the woman who wants to believe that she’s only a prostitute because she has to be, when in fact, it’s just because she’s dirty deep down and likes to get fucked.”
I blink rapidly.
These analogies are bizarre and far off topic from a conversation about explorers.
“Or the child who believes all the lies their parents tell them because they don’t want to and shouldn’t have to ever imagine that their parents would tell them untruths.” She gazes out the window at the night sky.
“I can’t say I’m following, Tenley.”
Her eyes are soft. “We humans like to convince ourselves of things that aren’t true, Brooks.”
My lips are parted but I offer no response.
“Because we can’t face the truth. We can’t accept the evidence of what is happening right-in-front-of-us. We lie to ourselves. We deny. We hope.” Her eyes water. “We refuse to see the inevitable.”
I shake my head once, twice, completely fucking perplexed.
Is this what Tenley and James’ conversations are like? If so…
Ruffling my hair, I observe her crazy.
“After my father’s first company failed and went away for good, do you know what he did?”
I swallow.
“He built another one.” Easing up from the table, she snatches the wooden plate away with a little more venom than I can say I understand.
After tidying up, she crawls into bed and makes herself comfortable, turning on her side and curling up.
I’m left sitting alone at the table, wallowing in her riddles. Sitting back, I stretch out in the rickety chair, accepting that a soapy bath is in order.
And then I plan to sleep.
Since I’ve been on this island, I’ve accepted that certain things can consume us. They can destroy us. Keeping our sanity is an utmost priority.
A sigh drifts from me when I scrub my jaw, silently admitting to myself that there have been more than a few occasions while being here when it felt as if I was losing it.
Anger.
Sadness.
Self-pity.
I’ve been whacked in the heart with every single one of those emotions while being stuck here.
And right now, Tenley is feeling them hard.
Charles Darwin long ago changed the way I thought about the world. As a scientist and a naturalist, he believed that survival was exclusively related to a species’ ability to adapt.
It’s happening to us already…
We’ve modified our expectations and way of life to enable us to survive here.
We’re evolving.
If we don’t, surely, we’ll die.
Darwin further defined evolution as “descent with modification” and maintained the idea that a species changes over time. He also believed in natural selection—a mechanism which causes populations to become well-suited to their environments as time goes by—in which heritable traits passed through things like genes, that help organisms survive and reproduce, become more common in a population gradually.
Another breath leaves me.
The rain falls harder and soon it’s collecting slowly in the various catches around this tree house. I’d need to get up on this roof tomorrow, however terrified I am, and clear them out so that we’ll have full functionality, because the thought of hauling fresh water from the lagoon all the way here every day is unthinkable, not to mention impracticable.
For now, Tenley needs rest and hopefully she’ll have a better tomorrow.
As will I.
Right now, we need sleep.
But mostly, we just need to survive.
~
A tear slips from her eye that’s squeezed shut. “Please wait for me, James.” Her fingers flex but there’s nothing there to grab. “But you don’t have to go now, you can wait.” She smiles. “Just a little while longer.”
I flinch and twist on to my side, disoriented by the pitch and brevity of her voice and feeling as if I’ve somehow been wrenched right from my sleep and tossed into a lively conversation. “Tenley.”
There’s no answer, only a loud breath is expelled from her lungs. “You don’t have to go now. You can wait. We can go together, James.” Frowning, her fingers twist in the sheets. “Pl-l-lease, James, just wait with me. If you go now, I’ll never see you again.” Her tears flow and soon she’s weeping almost in silence. “Don’t you understand that I’ll never see you again if you leave now?”
I jackknife into a sitting position and shake her a bit, hoping to wake her. “Tenley.”
She cries more.
Peni’s face is etched with concern but she doesn’t move.
“Tenley.” I rock her just once. “You’re dreaming, Tenley. You’re having a bad dream. Please wake up.” I wait.
Only ragged exhales drift from her.
My breaths are heavy as I look into her features with fierceness.
With a face covered in tears, she’s limp in my arms.
Finally, her eyes open and connect with mine. “I should have gone with him, Brooks.”
And I should have gone with Joy…
“I should’ve gone with him.” Her chin lowers and her eyes are fixed on my shirt. Then those golden orbs of hers flicker up to mine, so, so sad.
It only takes me a moment to realize that although her eyes are open, she’s still asleep.
Concern is scribbled across her face.
“What is it, Tenley?” I give her a little shake hoping to really wake her up.
She sucks in a harsh breath and her bottom lip trembles. “We’re going to die here, Brooks.”
I inch back a bit at her words, feeling throttled by them.
A premonition? A fear? A goddamn curse?
My grip weakens but I don’t let her go.
Slowly, her eyes shut again and she’s really asleep. I lower her to the bed and make sure she’s comfortable before I arrange the blanket back over her shuddering torso.
Then, I lie back down and make myself more comfortable on my side. Pulling the diary from my pocket, I thumb through the pages and find the first one adjusting so that the moonlight illuminates the script on the first page. To those poor wretched souls who find themselves marooned upon this island, Godspeed.
At those words, I sit up, shift into more light, and turn the page.
April 10, 1893
Amazement and sheer shock weave their way into my expression.
It’s been five days.
We’d lost all compass bearings long ago.
After the storm and the loss of most of the men, we found ourselves wedged on a reef that tore a hole right in the hull of the ship. The Reveles was no more. We swam to shore and soaking wet and shivering, perched upon the most beautiful beach with the bluest of water and the whitest softest sand. The reefs are immovable barriers and beyond the beach, at times, the current is powerful enough to send large ships straight to the Ivory Coast without the need of their hoisted sails. We searched for fresh water and found a lagoon. Peighton is well but she’s exhausted. After the loss of her parents, she’s been sullen. I gave her some books to read and we started a rose garden which seemed to cheer her up a little. I promised her we’d wait here for as long as we could. We have temporary shelter and we have food supplied to us by the abundance of colorful fish, birds, and fruit here. It is so quiet some days that all you can hear is the breeze and the birdsong. This island is magical, but she has her demons, rest assured.
