by Marni MacRae
“I’m alright. I’m thirsty.” I put my hand over his and ran it up his arm, searching for his face above me. “Thank you, Lucas. I know that couldn’t have been easy for you.”
“Hardest thing I have ever done in my life.” He bent down, and I felt his kiss on my brow. “Hold on.” He whispered, and then he slipped away.
In a moment, he came back, holding the metal cup to my lips, helping me sit forward to drink. I felt like I was parched through to the bone. My skin was wet from the air, but inside I was dust, desert.
“Can I have more, please?”
“Yes, Oliver, I will get you more.” He left again and returned with the cup full.
I finished that one and lay back again. The bandages around my waist and hip were tight but not restricting. “How does it look?”
“It looks better. You will scar.” He said softly. “Some of the cuts are pretty jagged, but they pieced together decently. I used a lot of glue. Wherever did you learn to use glue for cuts? Are you sure that’s safe?”
“I read a lot. It’s an old military trick. Super Glue was invented for military field medicine. At least I read that somewhere. I hope it’s true, because it’s too late now.”
He chuckled. “Well I'm grateful, my head wound feels like it was stitched by a surgeon. I’m betting you dumped glue in there too.”
“Yep, hey, what happened?” I opened my eyes even though I was hardly able to see him in the dark. “You didn’t catch the reef thank God, but your head was split open, blood everywhere. It was pretty ghastly.”
“The metal box attacked me. When the raft flipped over I think it panicked and just lashed out in fear.”
I chuckled and was grateful when it only hurt a little. “Well, it could have been worse. How's your wrist?” I hadn’t looked earlier, but it occurred to me now that it must be hurting some.
“Some rope burn and bruising, nothing that won’t heal. You rest, Sophie. Go back to sleep. We will check my work in the morning, and I'll hunt us down some food.”
“Food, oh blessed food. That would be lovely.” I closed my eyes again and reached out for his hand as he lay beside me. He was careful not to touch me, or jostle me, or bump my bandages. But he clasped my hand tightly, and I heard him whisper just as I fell into the deep black again ...
“I love you…”
* * *
Morning brought the sun and heat. The wet jungle was steamy and muggy, and the air made me feel like I had to swallow constantly. Like a slow drowning. It was almost solid with humidity. I recalled forecasts predicting rain, or snow, calling for seventy percent humidity, ninety percent humidity. At one hundred percent wouldn’t we be swimming?
It was one hundred percent humidity this morning. I swam to a sitting position, groaning with pain and soreness, but strangely happy. It only took a moment for me to recognize where the emotion stemmed from. Lucas loves me. And I love him. If we ever got home, we would figure things out. Be together. But for now, my mind was on water because even swallowing the wet air, and the one hundred percent humidity didn’t sate the thirst or the sandy, scratchy feeling in my mouth and throat.
I looked longingly at my suitcase, knowing it held inside it my toothbrush and toothpaste. Brushing would make me feel half–normal. A glass of water and maybe a donut wouldn't be too much to ask, I figured. I had, after all, endured much. The universe owed me some payback. Balance the scales.
Lucas was nowhere to be seen, he must have snuck off at first light, maybe in search of breakfast. Perhaps there was a Dunkin' Donuts around the corner. I groaned aloud. I needed to not think about food. It was obvious I had lost weight. I didn’t need clothes to tell me that. My hip bones were pokier than when I had boarded the plane in my sassy white pants and navy tank. My face seemed thinner too, my cheekbones closer to the surface. I ran my hands up over my face, rubbing away the sleep and exhaustion.
I'm a planner, a doer. I have a very hard time sitting still. If I must sit still, I will knit, or sew, or fold socks, or read. Winter time at home is full of ‘sitting still’ projects. But here I had nothing to do, and even though I wanted to take out the matted clump of braids, and brush the sand out of my hair, dig out my toothpaste and brush the sand out of my mouth, I wanted even more to heal up. To not feel any more pain and be able to walk again. I wouldn’t risk ruining Lucas’s handiwork of stapling and bandaging me back together. So I lay back, and looked up into the green palm fronds above me, and waited for Lucas to return.
Half an hour had gone by before I heard his footsteps through the underbrush. He appeared from behind me, holding something in his right hand and wearing a huge grin. Seeing I was awake he quickly put his hand and whole arm behind his back.
“I have a surprise.” He knelt at my knees, and I couldn’t help but laugh. He looked like a kid who had just got his allowance and spent every penny at the candy store.
“Yay, I love surprises!” I do, I think anyone who goes through the trouble to surprise someone else, really cares and is thinking of them unselfishly. Unless the surprise is bad, or when someone jumps out from behind a door and makes me pee a little in fright. I hate those surprises.
Lucas pulled his hand around from behind his back with great ceremony and plopped my very wet, and dirty, fishy-smelling, purse in my lap.
“Oh my God!” I squealed in delight. I knew I sounded like a baby girl piglet, but this was the best surprise ever. “I can’t believe it! You found it, where was it?”
“It was wrapped in a big clump of seaweed a couple hundred yards down the beach from Ducky. I almost didn’t see it, but then it caught my eye.” He leaned over and kissed my forehead. “I thought it was a dead animal at first.” He chuckled. “Kind of smells like one.”
“Oh, this is almost as good as donuts!”
“Well, I did say I would find us something to eat. I haven’t opened it yet, a woman’s purse is a mysterious and forbidden thing to men.” He shrugged and sat back, his face still split with a grin, and I was thrilled to see him smiling.
“Thank you, Lucas.” I reached out and ran my fingers down his face, tickling his beard with my nails. “Let’s see if anything survived the dunking.”
I opened the zipper with some effort. The metal teeth were full of sand, and the leather was slimy, and wet, and hard to grip. But finally, I had success and was able to peer inside. After seeing the wet contents and the mass of sand, and water, that still remained, I decided to just dump the whole mess out beside me and see what could be salvaged.
The empty water bottles were there, my makeup kit, the flashlight I knew better than to even try to see if it worked, three candy bars, one bag of nuts, all seemingly safe in their plastic wrappers. I knew we couldn't be sure they hadn't been ruined until we opened them, but I crossed my fingers and quickly scanned the rest of the pile. The other odds and ends that made up the mysterious and forbidden contents of my purse were all there. My hair clip, a rubber band, a very wet wallet, a ball of string, a lighter, nail clippers and, of course, the beer, the mixed drinks and the vodka. The Mai Tai had broken, large pieces of pink colored glass littered the sand, obscuring the smaller items, but the sight of the beer made me laugh.
“Oh my God! We are so going to celebrate tonight!” I reached out one hand high in the air, and Lucas promptly high-fived me.
“Dibs on the beer.”
“Oh no, we share, big boy. We each get beer, and you can have the Piña Colada, I'll have the Mudslide. If you help me, maybe we can go down to the beach and celebrate at sunset, just like I wanted to.
“You wanted to celebrate on the beach at sunset?” Lucas looked slightly confused. He had one of the beers in his hand, reading the label that was half peeled off and soggy.
“Not here, on the castaway island in the Maldives. That’s why I have this hoard.” I waved my hand at all the alcohol. “I wanted to have a tipsy tan, and a drink at sunset on the beach in paradise.”
Lucas laid the beer back in the sand and leaned forward to kis
s me. He lingered a minute with his forehead against mine, then said, “We will celebrate. I have a lot to be grateful for. Let's play it safe and not re-injure your leg. I'll carry you down to the beach.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and caught his smell. That scent of home and fields and leather. I inhaled deeply then laid my mouth against the warm skin at his throat, kissing lightly.
“So do I. Have a lot to be grateful for.” Lucas leaned back, sitting on his haunches, his fingers now tangled with mine. “I love you, Lucas.”
His face transformed, and he smiled. His eyes were warm and full of tenderness, and even a hint of happiness I noticed, then he said very directly and sincerely. “I love you too.”
* * *
I was happy. Filthy, and grimy, and my leg still burned, but I felt truly happy. Lucas and I had devoured the bag of nuts and split one of the candy bars. It was a strange one I had never heard of, called a Yorkie. It had a bright blue wrapper, and the slogan on the side said; it’s not for girls. Of course, that only goaded me into buying it. No one can tell me I can’t eat candy. I had thought the guy at the checkout was going to give me a hard time, but he hadn’t, and now I relished the chunky chocolate bar, eating with defiance. Take that, you Brits, it is for girls after all.
Lucas had brought me water, and I downed two cups before I felt better. Then he filled up the two water bottles, as well as his tall thermos, and left me to ‘go hunting.’ Apparently, even though the manly chocolate was good, he insisted we needed some protein. I didn't argue with him; I do love me some protein.
Lucas had dragged my suitcase close to me and promised to check my bandages later in the day. I didn’t want them to stick to any scabs forming, and I hoped that later he would take me to the beach where I could remove them. The sun and breeze would air out the wounds and assist in scabbing. I planned on replacing the strips at night for sleeping. He had said it was a good plan and vowed to be back soon before he kissed me goodbye. On any day of the week in suburbia, it might have been a normal domestic scene.
I opened my case and found my toothbrush and toothpaste. I brushed and scrubbed and spit and rinsed three times before I judged my mouth was up to sparkling standards. I drank some more water and began the very long task of taking out my braids and untangling my long hair.
Once the braids were finally free, I began brushing out the sand and tangles. It took some time and a lot of patience as my waist and hip didn’t like the stretching, also, I was only able to hold my arms up for a few minutes before I began to fatigue. I knew I was not in good shape when I finally sat, panting, my arms tingling and tiny black spots darting across my vision. I relaxed for a few minutes then forged on, determined to feel human, and this was the only ‘sitting still’ project I had.
I poured a bottle of water over my head, letting it run over my face, down my hair and across my shoulders, taking a mini-shower while sitting in the sand on palm fronds. I brushed out my hair once more, intent on removing all of the sand and any remaining tangles. Then I rested for ten minutes and repeated the process. By the end of it all, I had scrubbed my face clean with one of my dresses, gotten my hair pretty darn clean and completely tangle-free, and deemed myself almost human again.
I wanted to get dressed but didn’t want to disturb the bandages, so I settled for slipping one of the sundresses that had served as a blanket over my head. It was a creamy gold with delicate white daisies embroidered around the hem, and had a full breezy skirt that would fall to my knees if I were ever able to stand up. The dress had no sleeves but gathered a couple of inches below my throat, and then a gold rope tied behind my neck leaving my shoulders bare and free to catch the breeze and cool my skin. I couldn’t pull on panties, but I did fish out a pair of white sandals and slipped those on. I knew I wouldn’t be walking anywhere soon, but it made me feel prepared nonetheless.
All said and done, I felt better and completely exhausted, but my stomach wasn’t grumbling and I was semi-clean and almost completely dressed. It seemed weird to not be wearing underwear.
With the tasks finished, I soon became bored. I downed the last of the water and lay back to rest, the warm air lulling me, drugging me. Soon I drifted off, to dream of white beaches, dark pirates, and a tall cowboy with wide shoulders and a soft mouth.
* * *
True to his word, Lucas came back with a feast. I had been awake for a little while, whistling at the birds that were a cacophony of sound around me. I was trying to master a particularly pretty call when he strode into our little hut-shelter carrying a rather large fish.
“Wow! How about that, is that a tuna?” I was incredulous and excited. This was going to be a fantastic meal. We would need a fire, and maybe a coconut, which we could open and use the milk to flavor the meat, wrap it in some palm fronds and roast it over coals. I was cooking up recipes in my head, my mouth watering in anticipation, when I realized Lucas hadn’t replied. I tore my eyes away from dinner and looked up to his face. He stood there, staring at me. He took in the dress, my clean face and hair that now spilled around my shoulders, slightly curling in the humidity. I put a hand to the thick mane, thinking llama in my mind and gave him a little smile.
“Lady Sun.”
I was confused, had he seen the ship? Were the pirates here on the island? He saw my eyes widen and must have read the panic there because he quickly dropped down beside me and set the fish aside.
“No Sophia, not the yacht, you. You’re beautiful. Your hair,” he reached out to touch it and then pulled back not wanting to get fish on me, “it’s golden, and full, like rays of the sun. You are Lady Sun.” He smiled gently. “And yes, it is a tuna. Bluefin.”
My heart settled back to normal, and I basked in the compliment. “Thank you.”
He just nodded and turned back to the fish. “Let’s get you down to the beach. I bet you would enjoy some sunshine and a view.”
“Oh yes, thank you, I am dying to get up and explore, but don’t want to pull the stitches.”
“Staples,” he corrected. “How do you feel?”
“Better today. My leg is still a constant fire, but it hasn’t made me cry or scream, so I think that's progress.”
He looked concerned and then sighed. “Well, we will check the healing once we get you into the sun. You look like you're dressed for a party. We’re way overdue to enjoy our vacation, so what do you say we start a fire, roast some fish and have a drink on the beach?”
I would have jumped up and down and clapped my hands in joy if I could. I settled for the clapping and laughed, “Oh hell yeah, let’s have a party!”
Lucas laughed with me, smiling wide at my cursing, and reached over and scooped me up his arms. I squealed a little with pure delight. He was like a deserted island prince, But Lucas needed no armor, even though he was my knight.
Very gingerly, Lucas carried me against him careful not to jar my leg. It had protested with a brief threat of lightening but settled down again, and now it was back to the normal raging fire.
We broke free of the tree line in only a few of Lucas’s long strides. He set me down on the pure white sand just inside a patch of shade, and there before me, spread out like a perfect postcard, was paradise. The waves crashed onto the white sand, and they were lovely now that I wasn’t mad at them. The bay stretched out in a brilliant aquamarine blue, shimmering like a liquid gem, until it reached the coral reef where greens and deeper blues tied in. Then, out to the ocean that no longer scared me, now that I wasn’t floating aimlessly on it. Intermittently, a palm tree dipped out from the jungle, leaning and grazing its fronds along the sand, creating such a picture of tropical perfection I felt myself tear up.
“Why would anyone ever leave this place,” I whispered. “It’s so beautiful; it’s stunning. Lucas,” I reached up for his hand and pulled him down beside me, “we should stay forever. Have you ever seen anything so perfect in all your life?” I was overwhelmed with it. So pristine, and warm and inviting, now that the fear was gone. Lucas w
as fine, I would be fine. We were in heaven.
“Only one thing.”
“Hmm?” I had forgotten what I had asked.
“I have seen one thing more perfect than this.”
“Oh,” I felt the thrill of the island sink a little and turned to look at him. He was looking at me, steadily and purposefully. “Montana,” I said softly. “Home.”
“No, Sophia. You.” He ran his fingers through my hair. Then he grabbed a handful at the nape of my neck and pulled my mouth to him. He kissed me hungrily, and I kissed him back. We were suddenly both starving for each other, and the taste of him ignited in me a fire completely unrelated to pain. I put my hands on his shoulders and steadied myself, ending the kiss with a gasp, and a yearning to strip off our clothes and fulfill the burning need in me. But we could wait. We had time. I would heal, and we would make love every day in this paradise. We had no choice. Love it or hate it, we were here. And I loved it.
Lucas smiled against my mouth, and I chuckled, the laughter coming from deep inside, warming me with joy.
“Let’s feast.”
“I thought we were.” His breath tickled my lips.
“Oh no.” My grin was huge. “Let’s eat roasted tuna with coconut milk, and then let’s get drunk and watch the sunset.”
Lucas ran his hand over my hair again. “OK, Lady Sun, we'll feast in paradise.”
Chapter 16
Lucas had swiped my red lighter that morning before he had gone on his hunting trip. He tapped the sand out of it on a rock, releasing any trapped water that may have made a home in the little silver wind break. He had then laid it in the sun to dry. Intent on making a fire, he now began combing the beach for driftwood. Gathering armloads of twigs and sticks, all worn smooth and bleached to a creamy white from the sun, he placed them about fifty feet in front of me. The stack soon began to grow as he returned with yet another armload.
