Lady Sun: Marni MacRae

by Marni MacRae

  I rose to my knees and fell into him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on. “A home. We can build a little home until rescue comes.” The relief was absolute and overwhelming.

  Fury was kicking her way out to sea to go torment some other island, or blow out altogether, and when the storm cleared, we had a chance to not only survive, but live.

  The stress of the last month, the pirates, the life raft at sea, the endless ocean, the reef that tore me open. The hunger and thirst, the worry that no one would come, and then the baby, the storm. I had been winding tighter, and tighter, trying to maintain a positive attitude without cause. And now, we had a chance. We could make it until someone found us.

  I might gain back some of the weight I had lost. I could stay out of the sun, let my skin heal and not burn. I would harbor this life, and it could flourish. If I was careful, very careful, everything might possibly be OK.

  For the second time in five minutes, I began to cry. I clung to Lucas and let the tears soak into his wet shirt and cried silently, wondering how I would tell him. When I would tell him. Perhaps I would sleep on it and wait. Perhaps I should wait until rescue came. No, that wasn't fair. I knew that it was just as much his child as mine, and it wasn't my news to keep from him. I resolved then as Lucas held me in his strong warm arms, with the taste of orange on my tongue and hope in my heart, that I would tell him in the morning.

  We finished the water together. We each ate a banana, and then, exhausted, and filthy, and sticky, we wrapped around each other and lay down on our familiar, and quite squished, life vest bed, and fell into a deep sleep.

  Chapter 25

  I dreamed of wide-open fields and children playing in a creek. I dreamed of Lucas riding a horse across the Montana range and my belly swelling with life. In the dream, my family surrounded me, and we celebrated with tables of food, and music, and campfires. My niece's and nephew's laughter rang like bells against the sky, and I felt full, and content, wrapped in love and safety.

  I woke up with a prayer on my lips that Lucas would love this little life inside me. For although it was surely smaller than a sesame seed, it owned me, heart and soul, and I wanted so badly for we three to be a family.

  But the dream had ended, and this new day brought me out of sleep, and into itchy sand in my still damp shorts, the urge to pee and a slight tickling of nausea.

  “My kingdom for a toilet and a shower.” I rolled into Lucas and stretched, trying to work out the kinks that never truly receded. My days were filled with kinked muscles, bug bites, burned fingers and an empty stomach. My mind was constantly distracted by the pre-occupation for finding water, food, a comfortable place to sit, and to eat one mouthful of fish that didn't crunch with sand.

  “So the shine has finally worn off?” Lucas pulled me closer to him and nuzzled his bearded face into my sandy, tangled hair. “You would trade all this for a porcelain throne?”

  I wiggled out of his embrace, sad to leave the comfort of his arms, but my bladder ruled me, and the nausea was less a threat, more a promise. I didn't want Lucas to see the ugly side of my news. I wanted him to think of me as glowing, and healthy, and capable of growing a strong, healthy, baby to bounce on his knee.

  “Yep, vacation time is over, I'm off to the trees. Would you mind checking us out and calling a taxi, we don't want to miss our flight.”

  “Mm hm. Sorry, pumpkin, that plane has flown, ship has sailed, train has left the station.” Lucas propped himself up on an elbow as I scooted out of our hut into sunlight. “But I can order room service, how do you feel about an orange-banana salad?”

  I shook my head wearily and smiled. Lucas was my rock. He was my giggle, and my warmth, my shelter, and my food. Without him, I wouldn't have lasted a week. Well, most likely not a day, considering the reef’s attack on my leg. “Sounds perfect. I won't be a minute, and then we can tour the village and begin our new life of luxury.”

  * * *

  The church was gorgeous. Well in all honesty it was rather creepy, like a scene out of an old Frankenstein movie. The walls were completely overgrown with vines and creepers, the door was half-rotted and hanging from its rusted hinges. If ever there had been glass in the arched windows, the islanders must have taken it with them in their mass exodus, for there was no trace of it now. The roof had long rotted and collapsed and then began its return to the earth as the rotted beams and boards wasted away. Some on the interior of the structure, some along the outside walls.

  But to my eyes, there in the bright sunlight after the storm, the church looked like a gift. It had potential. With some elbow grease and some ingenuity, we could have a rather decent, maybe even romantic, shelter.

  Plus, it was on holy ground. That couldn't hurt.

  “New island rule.” I stood with my hands on my hips, eyeing the collapsed and ramshackle structures on deserted island lane.

  “No cussing in the church?”

  “Oh yeah, that, plus, no tetanus shots. There has to be a minefield of rusty nails in there.”

  “Agreed, proceed with caution.” Lucas held out his large warm palm toward mine, and I absently shook it as I eyed the possibilities.

  “I wonder if Bed, Bath and Beyond is having a sale on curtains.”

  Lucas pulled me to him and gave me a light bear hug squeeze. “Well, decorating can come after we figure out a roof, but first, let’s investigate the well. If it's halfway decent, I can get something rigged up for a shower.”

  I squealed and did a little bounce, “A shower? Oh man, you had me at ‘let’s’.”

  Both of us had a much lighter mood than we had maintained on the other island. Although the storm was a daunting welcome here, the village, the fruit, and the potential well had us both walking jauntily, despite our bedraggled states, around to the rear of the church. The promise of a shower was motivation enough to have me willing to sing and dance and flaunt my sunburn, my sand rashes, my bug bites, and my now very scrawny form.

  Lucas had fared a bit better with his tan, his skin halting at a nice golden caramel and refusing to burn or peel. Good genes. The thought is immediately leading me to the news of our combined genes I had yet to figure out a way to broach. I mean really, shelter, and water, a shower, at least let me be clean when I say 'hey, you my baby daddy'. So I shoved the niggle of guilt aside and continued my assessment of said baby daddy as we picked our way through the overgrowth behind the church.

  Lucas may sport the perfect tan, but he too had suffered from the flies and mosquitoes and sand gnats. We were freckled with the itchy bites randomly placed all over exposed skin - and a few on skin we only occasionally exposed , but had been too distracted on such occasions to notice any blood-sucking visitors.

  He had lost weight too. I knew we looked a sight, my clothes no longer fit me, and Lucas was constantly hitching at his waistband to keep his shorts up. He wasn't gaunt yet, but there wasn't a speck of fat left on his frame. We were past our bodies using our reserves, and now we were consuming ourselves. We both knew the discovery of the orchard, the fruit being added to our fish, bird, crab, coconut diet, was a life saver. Literally. And now water. A shower.

  Lucas led me toward a stone structure covered by a piece of corrugated metal which in turn, was covered in aforementioned vines and creepers. He pulled handfuls of vines away from the metal, freeing the well covering from the jungle's grasp, then slowly, he slid the metal from the coral rock base to reveal the dark shadows it had been covering.

  “Moment of truth.” Lucas flashed me an almost nervous grin and picked up a stone from the base of the well and let it drop into the shadows.

  Not even a second passed, I hardly said, “One Mississippi.” and there was a splash. I whooped and jumped up to high-five my cowboy, but he was too distracted to notice the upraised hand. I high-fived myself and then leaned over the lip of the well. “It must be pretty full!”

  “The island is probably no more than twelve feet above sea level, this well isn't deep. I'll measure it later,
but for now we need to be sure it's fresh water.” Lucas pulled out his metal cup from one of his many pockets and leaned over the lip of the well. Reaching down, his long arm extended into the dark shadow, he scooped up some liquid and pulled it into the sunlight.

  “You aren't going to drink it are you?”

  “No, just taste it. Fresh water will float atop saltwater, but the storm may have gotten things stirred up.” He put the cup to his lips and took a small mouthful. After a moment of letting it sit on his tongue, he spit it out and smiled. “It's fresh.”

  “Yay!” This time he reciprocated my high-five, and then poured the cupful back into the well.

  “It tastes clean, but we can't be sure, it would be safer to boil it before we drink it, but it will work fine for cleaning.”

  “A shower?”

  “Yes my lady, your kingdom for a shower. Sorry, haven't found a toilet yet, but who knows, the day isn't over.”

  The next hour was spent fetching the metal can and filling it, thermos-ful by thermos-ful, until I deemed it was enough to clean me. Then Lucas returned to the castle to retrieve my cleanest garment, which happened to be a pale, blue sundress I had only worn a few times, and had yet to be torn, or stained, or burnt, or smelling of fish.

  I stood on the packed earth of what had been the main road -- the only road -- through the village. One thermos at a time, I poured the clean water over my head, scrubbing with my fingers at my scalp, rubbing with my palms, every inch of me, to remove any speck of sand. Then I poured more and more water until the can was empty.

  Lucas appeared, holding my dress as I stood drying in the sun on the road. He grinned at my nudity and leaned down to kiss my clean lips.

  “I brought your Keds, since you'll want to explore,” I had been wearing my flip flops, which kept flipping or flopping off, “and your brush, and toothbrush and toothpaste.”

  “Oh you're the best, thank you.” I held out my arms for the pile and began dressing as he walked away, metal can under his arm, to fill it for his own shower.

  When he returned, I sat on a rock, brushing the wet tangles out of my hair, and then braiding it to hang down my back, hopefully, to remain sand free for one day. I watched the sexy form of Lucas as he repeated my earlier attempts at cleaning. He was such a sight and still took my breath away. Tall, and wrapped in muscle that was now leaner, and more defined than when aboard the Lady Sun, but no less impressive. The sprinkling of hair on his chest glistened with water as he dumped a thermos-full over his head, the rivulets running down his stomach, over hips and thighs and calves, drawing my eyes to revel in every inch of his perfect form. Damn he’s a stunning man. Good genes, I whispered again, and I took a long steadying breath. Let him get dressed, then I will tell him.

  My palms were beginning to sweat, and having finished the chore of braiding, I decided to inspect the orchard while Lucas finished his shower. “I'll be right back, just off to fetch a bite.”

  Lucas nodded, and I strolled in the direction he had indicated earlier where he had discovered the orange tree.

  Sure enough, not a block from the church, back from the road, there was a group of formally placed fruit trees. I couldn't help but laugh out loud. There had to be about twenty of them. I saw two orange trees, a lemon tree, oh man, that will help the fish situation, three or four banana trees, a breadfruit and a few I would have to inspect to see if I could identify them. I began filling my skirt that I pulled up to form an impromptu sack, with oranges and bananas and breadfruit. I scanned the rest of the orchard, trying to determine which trees had been planted purposefully, and which, were part of the jungle.

  They all varied in size and color, and form, the decades having given them time to mature and spread their roots and branches. Just as I was about to turn to go back to Lucas with my breakfast hoard, I recognized one of the trees.

  “Oh my freaking holy wow!” I almost dropped the hold I had on my skirt as I plunged past branches to get to one particular tree that loomed over the smaller ones. “Avocado!” The California girl in me was doing a dance inside while the starving island Sophia was pulling down perfectly ripened fruit from the branches. My aunt had an avocado tree in California, we called it brain food because it was chock-full of carbs and fat that was good for the brain. You know the good fat, as opposed to the bad fat the scientists are always touting. Plus, I absolutely loved guacamole. I stopped myself at four, even though, the starving mother in me wanted to be a glutton. I wrapped my large breakfast in my skirt and headed back toward the church.

  Lucas now sat on the rock I had vacated, slipping his deck shoes on. I sat down on the sandy/ grassy/weedy ground beside the rock and let the fruit roll from my skirt.

  “Wow, you found avocado?”

  I nodded and held one out to him. “Yep, things are going to be much tastier from here on out.”

  Lucas lowered himself to the ground to sit across from me, his back against the rock. “Well let’s dig in, build up our energy, we have a long day ahead. This evening I'll see about catching some protein to add to our fruit.”

  I nodded as I peeled my banana. I planned to have the orange next, then an avocado, and tackle the huge breadfruit for lunch ... with maybe another avocado. As I chewed, I pieced together in my head how I wanted to broach the sticky subject that hung over me, but nothing I came up with in my mind sounded good. Most of my sentences began with “Hey guess what?” which sounded flippant, or, “I have something to tell you,” which sounded ominous.

  My mind wandered through my options as I finished my orange and started peeling the avocado. I was careful with my breakfast, trying to keep my dress relatively clean, and the mess confined to my fingers, which I could now wash when I was done. I noticed Lucas had been as quiet as I was and looked up to see him gazing at the church with a calculating eye. Ah, the hunter-gatherer-protector is figuring out a roof. Of course he is. Just one of the many reasons why I loved him.

  At that moment, I knew what to say. I saw this man sitting across from me who had saved me from pirates, bandaged my wounds, fished in the blistering sun every day to feed me, worked to shelter me, and made love to me in every moment with his kindness and strength. I owed him the truth. No embellishments, no fancy words.

  “Lucas.” I set the remains of my avocado aside and wiped my fingers in the grass, attempting to free them of stickiness but not bring back any sand. I failed, and resigned myself to be patient and deal with cleaning them later. I sat up straight and folded my messy fingers in my lap.

  Lucas had pulled his eyes away from the church and was looking at me. He swallowed the last bite of his avocado and tossed the peel into the brush. “Yes?”

  He looked so sweet and relaxed. Our bellies full, our bodies clean, there was no better time than right now.

  “I'm pregnant.” I said it softly, but clearly. Looking him square in the eyes, not wanting to miss any reaction, no matter how slight, hoping beyond hope that after the shock, I would see joy.

  Lucas blinked. He stared back into my eyes, his body absolutely still. Then very slowly he leaned forward and took my sticky hands in his large warm ones.

  “Please say it again, so I can be sure I heard you right.”

  “I'm pregnant.” I repeated myself slowly, calmly, and then added, “I only just realized it yesterday. I'm about ten day’s late, give or take.”

  He said nothing. He held my hands in his and looked at me with such a queer expression, one I couldn't quite place. Then he leaned forward and kissed me very gently on the mouth and stood up.

  I rose to my feet, worried now and not sure what to say, what to do, I couldn't take the words back, I didn't want to. There was no way to hide facts, sooner or later he would know. But I feared again, that he would turn away, that he would take his heart from me and shut down, reject the future we might have together. Oh God, I'm going to lose him, lose the man I loved with all my heart and I could do nothing.

  Lucas turned slowly and began to walk down the overgrown road to
ward our hut. He wasn't hurried or even distraught. He was thinking, sorting, mulling over the words, the implications, the world shifting news, and absorbing it. Figuring out his place in it.

  I let him walk to the end of the road and disappear into the trees. Then I followed him. He may need to think, but I needed to talk, the minute he was done with his thinking I planned to be there to hear whatever conclusion he came to.

  I kept him in sight but didn't rush to catch up. He clearly needed space, and I could at least give him that. He walked slowly through the trees, then past our hut and on toward the beach where we had landed only days before. When he reached the sand, he continued down to the edge of the water and then stood, looking out across the perfect, glassy, aqua pool.

  I wished I was inside his head with his thoughts. I wished I was there beside him, wrapped in his arms, celebrating the news. But I knew it was a big deal. For more reasons than I cared to think of in my own mind, it was a big deal and no joke or smile, would make it any less weighty than it was. I lowered myself to the sand and waited. Sitting in the shade of the jungle, watching my future form in the mind of the man not fifty feet from me.

  The sun had moved across the sky, shifting my shade in its journey, giving me a rough estimate of almost an hour before Lucas turned and walked up from the water toward me. He slowed as he approached, looking me over; assessing me. I think. My health, my worth? I wasn't sure, but his eyes were kind, and he lowered himself to sit in the shade beside me.

  We were both quiet for a while, the minutes passing, but without tension, just a settling in together, with this new reality shared. Then Lucas reached out and took my hand, squeezed my fingers gently and held my hand in his own, placed in his lap, creating a bridge between us. I squeezed back and remained silent. Looking out at the blue and the sun. At the perfect scenery that held us trapped like a trick, so very pleasing to view, but the price of it, for us, was painful beyond words.