Lady Sun: Marni MacRae

by Marni MacRae

  Lucas and I began our slow stroll back to the ocean side of the island. I was lost in my own head. I wanted to ask him what he thought we should do, what he thought it would be like when we went home. But I was afraid the answer might ruin this perfect little bubble of paradise and denial we had built. So I stuttered along beside him, keeping my thoughts and worries to myself.

  * * *

  By the time I was settled into my life vest couch in the shade of my leaning palm, the sun was beginning to dip closer to the water, preparing for its evening bath. Lucas had by now quite a healthy pile of firewood, so he picked up his fishing pole that was propped against a tree and gave me a quick kiss before heading off to hunt down dinner. We had been eating fish for three days now. I had employed the same recipe I used for the tuna, and each meal had been delicious, but I caught myself thinking of my spice rack often. Salt and pepper and garlic, lemon peel or even a whole lemon. I planned to scour the island for different things I might be able to use to spice up the dishes, and I also wanted to experiment with obtaining sea salt. I mean we were surrounded by an entire mine of the stuff. As long as we had fresh water to stay hydrated, I would like to liven up our palates with salt if nothing else.

  I began shredding some palm fronds, it wasn’t difficult to find dry ones now, and by the time Lucas returned I had the fire crackling, and the sky was putting on its evening show.

  He had caught a grouper this time. At least that's what he called it. I had neither seen one before, nor had I eaten one, but he cut up filets and wrapped them in fronds and began roasting.

  He was unusually quiet, and as I mused over what the reason might be, I realized I was also not conversing much. He was probably wondering about my silence. Finally I huffed out a breath and faced it. Just jump in, Sophia. I gave myself a push, and the words came out in a rush.

  “Do you want to stay? I mean here, not just this island, but here. I know we said we were going to enjoy the fact we were stranded, but in a month or a week, maybe tomorrow, we could possibly go home.” I paused, looking at my feet in the sand. I didn’t want to see his expression, he might think I was nuts and I couldn’t handle the judgment. Especially now that I couldn’t take it back. So I forged ahead, talking to my feet, trying to explain myself, sort through my fears.

  “Lucas, I love you. I love this, our fire, your grouper and I will love whatever you catch tomorrow. I love the sunsets that are just mind-blowing gorgeous, and the sudden storms that bring us drinking water and a free outdoor shower, I can’t imagine going back, trudging through snow, and the world, maybe … changing us.” I looked up at him, finally. He was sitting very still, watching me stare at my feet and blurt out my confession.

  “Why can’t we stay?”

  Lucas left the fish to cook and sat beside me, taking my hand in his. “Sophia. I would stay here with you. I would build you a castle in the jungle, and we could figure out a way to thrive here, but there are more concerns than just food and water. What if one of us got sick, or injured? We've already used up a good portion of luck in that area. What would we do if we went a week and were unable to catch any fish? I can't promise you that the sunsets would balance it out. Life here would be a survival every day. No Google, no books to read, no way to Wiki an interesting shell you found or call home, talk to your sisters, your family.”

  “I know, and you have your ranch to worry about, and all the things that make time go by in the real world, but Lucas.” I faced him and held both of his hands. “In my heart, this feels like home, you feel like home. I wouldn't be able to stand it if we went back, and we lost this. Our connection, our paradise; it’s what movies are made of.”

  Lucas wrapped his arms around my shoulders and hugged me. I laid my head on his chest and listened to the beating of his heart. The embrace was so comforting and so still, it seemed more intimate than a kiss. I felt protected and complete.

  “We can stay. I would stay.” His voice was low against my ear. “But you should know that if we did leave, I would never let you go Sophia. We would figure it out, find a way, but we would always be together.”

  I felt a warm tear slide down my cheek. And we sat there with our arms around each other as the sky turned dark, and the first star winked on.

  Chapter 19

  In the morning we packed up. Lucas dragged our two suitcases behind him, and I strapped on my fishy-smelling but now dry purse that had been re-stuffed with its original contents, minus the booze.

  I still had the flask-shaped bottle of vodka but was saving it back in case of emergency. It was our only form of disinfectant and would be more useful as a medical supply than to drink while tanning. We trudged through the sand and around the bend, discussing our plan as we huffed in exertion through the now familiar muggy morning air.

  “So do you think we can make it around the entire island today?” We had settled on a course of action, agreeing that we would set up a temporary camp on the east beach, then we would pack a lunch and walk the beach around the entire island, if the beach permitted. Lucas intended to map it as we went, to try to get a sense of its size and to see if we could make out any other islands in the atoll.

  “Well we can always camp along the way if we get held up, but your leg seems to be doing well, so we should make decent time.”

  “Yeah, it’s hurting way less than yesterday. The exercise probably did it good.” I had rubbed it down with aloe the night before and still had the wrapping on. I intended to let it air out some once we dumped our load at the new camp, then re-wrap it for the trek.

  “Maybe it’s the magical island air.” Lucas heaved his smaller suitcase up to one shoulder and carried mine in his other hand. Dragging them clearly hadn’t been working.

  He was shirtless again today, and I had a hard time not drooling. I could adjust to the beauty of the island, startling though it was, but Lucas’s skin shining damp in the hot sun, always set me to feeling like a virgin schoolgirl. Or a wanton floozy. It was a toss- up.

  “I think it is magical. Muggy, and always really, really warm, but magical.”

  We arrived at the east beach and started looking for a good spot to set up. About fifty yards south, we spotted the perfect alcove. The line of jungle dipped toward the west just a bit, providing shade and a windbreak. Plus it was level, and the sand was a bit firmer.

  I had dawned two life vests when we set out, ignoring Lucas’s teasing about the air not being that muggy, and now my neck and back were sweating, the orange turtleneck effect practically choking me.

  “Ah, home sweet home!”

  “For now. We'll most likely find a better camp than this.” Lucas dropped his load onto the sand.

  “Ah, hotel sweet sandy hotel.”

  Lucas chuckled. I stripped off the vests and my purse and lowered myself carefully to the ground.

  “I won’t be long. Two trips should do it.” Lucas deposited the suitcases on the sand next to me and turned to head back for the rest of our things.

  “Why do we have so much stuff? Do you think we should have a yard sale? You know, do some spring cleaning.”

  Lucas just waved as he strode away but I heard him laugh, and it made me smile. I loved his laugh.

  I set to work putting together a lunch for our trek. I packed all three water bottles, which Lucas had filled that morning. (Our can was getting low. I sent out a brief wish for rain with only one hand crossing fingers. I figured that two hands would bring a hurricane or monsoon.) Then I wrapped up the leftover palm-fish-burrito from last night. The grouper had been huge, so we had enough for another full meal today.

  With our stomachs shrunk, we didn’t feel the desire to eat as much as before our adventure began, plus little choice in the matter, really. We ate what we found, then hunted for more. Or rather Lucas hunted. I worked on my tan, and the new awesome calendar I had created on a large piece of bark Lucas had found for me. Oh, I hope he doesn’t forget the calendar! I added our last candy bar to the picnic and sat down to wait.


  I was wearing shorts and a tank today, my wrapped leg fee of any material, and I began taking off the bandage, scooting to a piece of sun where I could set my thigh to air out. I studied the staples glinting in the rays of light. It looked like I would be able to take them out tomorrow. Maybe once we find our permanent camp I will be stitched together enough and I will remove them. I relaxed and sipped at the water bottle.

  Twenty minutes into my tan, Lucas returned carrying the metal box and the remaining six life vests. All of them had been salvaged. Six tied to our luggage and the box, and our two personal ones had washed ashore. Fat lot of good they had done, but having sex with life vests on totally killed the mood, so of course we hadn’t been wearing them when the island sucked us in.

  A quick kiss and Lucas was off again.

  “Don’t forget the calendar!” I called out to him. He threw up a hand in acknowledgment as he jogged across the sand and soon disappeared around the north bend.

  According to my wooden tab keeping board, today was January the ninth. I had flown out on the thirtieth and arrived in Malé on New Year’s Eve. We jumped off the Lady Sun that day, floated for three days and four nights and then washed ashore here. We had been on the island for five days total; today was the sixth. So that made today the ninth. I was glad I had started counting, it was already pretty fuzzy. If I had a journal, I would keep one just for posterity. I have no idea how Robinson Crusoe managed it. He was on his island for twenty odd years. That’s a lot of journal keeping… and a lot of aloneness.

  Lucas popped back in sight carrying the rolled up raft. When he reached me, he dropped the raft and plopped heavily down beside me. “I hate moving.”

  “Oh, me too, you know we should just rent a U-Haul, save the walking.”

  “Oh, you're just all giggles today. Excited about our hike?”

  “Am I that transparent? I’m not a good sitter-stiller. So yes! I'm very excited. I packed a picnic.” I held up the satchel I had made from one of his shirts. He didn’t wear them anyway, and I wanted to encourage that trend.

  “Good planning.” Lucas took a hearty swallow of water and stood back up for the final trip.

  “Forgot the motor, huh?”

  He shook his head as he strode away, muttering, “I hate that useless motor.”

  He may call it useless, but he had already come up with an idea of making fuel from coconuts. If we were able to patch up Ducky, he figured we may be able to motor to the other islands. I didn’t ask if he thought we could motor to the Maldives. That sounded terrifying. Storms and no navigation, in my mind it would be a death wish.

  At last the motor and my calendar were added to the pile to be unpacked later. We refilled the water bottles, I re-wrapped my leg, grabbed my cane, and together we set off to explore.

  * * *

  Ten steps down the beach Lucas reached out and took my free hand. “Sophie, we should talk.”

  My heart skipped, but not in a good way. It was clear he meant 'serious' talk, and I hadn’t heard that tone in his voice before. I decided I would say nothing and just let him say what he needed to say. Maybe it was his plan for the castle in the jungle, or he wanted to tell me his life story beginning to end. I nodded and kept hobbling forward, our hands growing sweaty in the heat. He didn’t let go though.

  “About last night…”

  Oh God, it was one of those talks. I steeled myself for judgment, for him to tell me I was nuts and what kind of woman wanted to stay on a deserted island with a man she had known just over a week. Yeah, that did look bad, but I shook off the self-judgment and left it to Lucas.

  “I’ve been thinking about our conversation, about staying here. The feasibility of it, and I have to agree that the idea is tempting. But we both know that, long term, it isn’t the right choice.”

  I kept my silence. I pictured in my head a year from now, two years, and I saw me, thin and tan and living in a jungle tree house. Lucas and I closer than ever, relying on each other, reaping life from the island and the sea. A small voice in my mind whispered, what about sickness? I ignored it. What about luxuries like soap, and shampoo, toilet paper, tampons. My mind paused at that one. Island life without tampons would be rough. But I was stubborn, and I tuned it out, but then the voice whispered what about Anna.

  It was easy to think of my family as a whole, to dismiss that whole as capable of enduring the loss of me. But Anna. The princes, my niece. That cut deep, and I let the thought settle into me.

  “You and I are responsible people, we have others who rely on us, businesses built by us, sitting waiting for us to return. I think the fact that we're both strong and capable is one of the main reasons it’s such an alluring idea to stay. The weight of responsibility lifted. But you know, Sophie, we would just be transferring it. Although there's no snow here, we would be dealing with elements just as harsh. We may not have to chain up, but we have to hunt for food, truly hunt, and water, so far, is a gift of chance and weather patterns. Sophie,” Lucas stopped in the sand and turned me to face him, “we could easily die here, with one mistake. I won’t be responsible for that, and even worse, I won’t leave you alone to fend for yourself if God forbid, something happened to me, and you were left here alone.”

  I hung my head and let his words sink in. He was trying to reason with me before I got too attached to the idea of staying. He was being sensible, and logical, and even loving. And I had been indulging in selfishness, dreams, and illusion. Today was pretty, but tomorrow might bring a hurricane or even pirates. If this last week had taught me one thing, it was how fragile our lives were, and that luck alone had kept us alive this far.

  “I know,” I studied Lucas’s face. I saw real concern and a deep patience. He wanted what was best for me, but didn’t want to drag me kicking and screaming. He was waiting for me to come around to reason in my own time.

  “Lucas, what will we do when we get home?” I lifted my chin and faced my real fear, the one that was at the root of my desire to stay. Beyond the beach the sunsets, the fun part of the adventure, I wanted him, and the thought of losing him tore at me. It made me panic and scramble to keep him, even if it meant the stupid choice. Staying here.

  “Help me understand, help me see how it would be when we get home. We met nine days ago. We know very little of each other in the scope of our lives away from here.” I spread my hands to encompass the island. “But I do know how I feel when I am with you. My attraction to you is beyond physical, more than your body, and the passion we share, although it began that way. But I love that you work with your hands, I respect your choice in lifestyle, ranching, not indulging in the rat race. I ache for you, for what your ex-wife did to you. You have proven in these nine days that you are patient, resilient, loving, funny, and smart. So I'm very afraid of losing you when we land in the States. That this island is all we have.” I sighed and turned to face the water, focusing on something other than his piercing eyes.

  “I know we have to leave,” I said softly. “I also know that you are irreplaceable, and no man would ever measure up to how I feel when I'm with you.”

  “You want to stay because you think that's the only way we can be together? Sophie, look at me.” He turned me back to him. “You are an amazing woman, if I haven’t made it clear already, let me say it again. I love you too. No other woman would have gone through what we have, and let it roll off her back. You doctored me and then taught me to doctor you while you were bleeding to death in front of me. And the next day you put on a pretty dress and made jokes. You're beautiful and funny, and I was never even close to this level of love in my marriage. The thought of Cassie doesn’t even hurt anymore, you have completely healed me. Filled my heart to overflowing. So yeah, it’s crazy that we've known each other nine days, and yes, we have more to learn, much more about each other. But I am in this with you, here and at home. We will figure it out. You can come to my ranch, bring all your animals, or I would move to be closer to you if that’s what you wanted, I could lease out the ranch,
and we can go from there.”

  I was crying now, my damn faucet turned on full force, and he grabbed me and pulled me against him, hugging me tight.

  “We will have so many adventures when we get back. The biggest of all would be a giant wedding.” Lucas brought his mouth down and kissed me, then he sank to his knees in front of me, and I couldn’t stop crying. “Sophia, you can’t believe I would ever let you go. Marry me, say you’ll be my wife, we'll bring our giant families to your farm or the ranch and throw a huge party. You'll wear white, I’ll wear a tux.”

  I lowered myself to the sand in front of him, my face wet with tears and my heart full and lifted.

  “Oh my God, Lucas, how can you be this perfect? You have to see why I would give up everything to stay here with you.”

  “I don’t want you to give it up, Sophia, I want you to have everything. Please, say yes.” He kissed me, and we sank down to the sand.

  “Yes.” The word was swallowed in a kiss, and I laughed against his mouth, wiping at my eyes and face. “Yes Lucas Lael, I will marry you.”

  His mouth crushed mine again, and I realized as his hands began pulling off my clothes that he had been afraid too. He had been as lost, but he found the way back and showed me the direction I needed to go. Towards him. Into him.

  My fingers unbuttoned his shorts, and he carefully stripped my clothes from me, turning then to his own. We were twenty feet from our campsite, but we didn’t care, this moment was all that mattered, and it swept us away.

  Chapter 20

  Survival is a word. An idea. An image of cavemen with sticks. Survival is something we think of when we must make a cruel choice. The adage ‘Survival of the Fittest’ is all the justification our conscience needs to stay quiet.

  Survivors are cancer patients or victims of car accidents. Hospitals are full of survivors, people that made it through a stubbed toe or a heart surgery.