by Gabi Moore
“Wow …so you’re quite the romantic.” The image of him in the forest the day before sprung to my mind.
“Not at all. I’m a practical man. There’s so much noise in life, don’t you think? A lot of time-wasting, a lot of commotion. But at some point, you have to ask what’s really important. All the other stuff? It all sinks sooner or later, right?” he said with the same irreverent smile.
Maybe having a randy wife who was good for a romp anytime, anywhere was the secret to his supernaturally positive outlook.
I scoffed.
If I wasn’t feeling so tired and weak, I could be Zen about everything, too. I bet I could look at this whole mess like a cute sitcom: there was the hot SEAL trainee, the ball-busting tough girl, whatever Anthony was and this guy, some fool with the patience of a monk.
“So, what’s really important to you, then, Carl?”
He looked out over to the shoreline and answered immediately.
“Her.”
I wanted to laugh again and tell him what a ridiculous sap he was. It was ludicrous, waxing lyrical about his wife at a time like this, when we were isolated who knows where and on the brink of almost-certain death. But I couldn’t. A lump grew in my throat as I realized: maybe new Ellie wanted that for herself.
“Anthony and I …I think I’m going to call off our engagement.”
He looked surprised. But he didn’t say anything. He just kept staring into the fire with a serene look on his face. He felt safe to talk to. The others were well out of earshot, and, what the hell, we were beyond small talk by now.
“What you said about Livvy? About her being the most important thing in the world to you? Well… Anthony and I aren’t like that. Not even close. I love him. I actually do love him. But not in the way I need to, you know? I want the best for him, if that’s what love means. But I also know I can never be the one to give him that.”
It felt strange to just open up to him like this. But the moment I did, and the words were out there in the real world and not just my frazzled head, it felt good.
I stared into the fire with him.
“So, that’s why I’m going to tell him it’s over. I’ve been stewing over it all day. Something about this place, huh?”
“Yup. Like I said, it’s amazing what you notice when all the distractions are gone,” he said with a sad smile.
“I feel awful about it though. Like it’ll eat at me until I just get it over with, just tell him. But he’s not a bad man. I don’t want to hurt him… I don’t even know if…”
I couldn’t finish my thought.
“If he’ll even come back tonight?” he said.
We both fell back into silent staring again, our eyes glued to the yellow and orange swirls in the fire. The sun on the horizon was the same color, and if you watched carefully, you could almost see it moving before your eyes to lower down and dip into the water, like it was extinguishing itself. We watched in silence until it started to darken more seriously. Right now, the prospect of another night in the sand pit was almost appealing. I felt cleaner, lighter, and less panicked somehow.
“Thanks for talking with me.”
“Thanks for talking with me,” he replied and smiled.
Anthony didn’t come. Charlie appeared an hour or two later and said she’d had no luck finding him, and her news put a dark mood over an otherwise peaceful evening. Todd kept his distance from the fire, avoiding me by busying himself endlessly with this and that. I didn’t mind. I was grateful, even. Anthony being missing felt like just another hopeless mystery thrown onto an already impossible situation. I didn’t know when to start officially worrying. With a sickening feeling in my stomach, I realized that even when he did return, it would only be to take him off somewhere into the forest and quietly hand him back his ring.
New Ellie didn’t feel guilty about these things, though, I had decided. We were all weary enough that Carl, Livvy, Todd and I went to bed not long after sundown, with the agreement that we’d have to search for Anthony in the morning, when there was light to do so. A little way off from our pit, the fire died down somewhat but its embers still glowed as darkness fell. Charlie sat outside alone, watching the coals pulse a little as they faded.
Inside the pit, I had a strange thought that I had conjured Anthony clean out of existence somehow, by thinking so hard about breaking things off with him. Todd clung to the far side of the pit and ignored me. It hurt, but I reminded myself that it wasn’t fair to ask him to get involved in my mess. I could only imagine what he must be feeling, but running around and kissing in secret was just not a smart strategy. We pulled the roof over us and secured it, then settled down for the night. Without the threat of another storm on the horizon, the world felt mercifully still for a moment.
I had already fallen fast asleep when I felt Charlie’s breath in my ear. At first I thought it must have been Anthony, creeping out from the darkness, or maybe even my nightmares themselves, and coming to admonish me for my crimes. But it was her.
“Don’t you dare make a sound,” she hissed.
Before I could respond, I felt something sharp dig into my lower back.
“Charl--”
“I said shut up.”
My body tensed up as I tried to understand what was happening.
“You need to stay away from him,” she said, her voice thin and sounding dangerous in the night air.
“From who?” I whispered. The sharpness jabbed again into my lower back and I winced and tried to wriggle away.
“Try to stand up and I’ll sink this into your kidneys, I swear. You think that little scratch on your foot is a big deal? Don’t try me.”
My head raced. I was now wide awake. Why was she doing this? It was obvious she was jealous about Todd, but a knife? I didn’t even know we had a knife on the island. Her voice sounded deranged.
“Charlie, please, can we talk? This is crazy…”
The knife point didn’t budge. I wanted to cry.
“You know, I was thinking about it. I hate women like you. And I could have easily killed you for trying to get in the way. But you know what? I’ll be gone tomorrow morning, before you’ve finished doing your hair and make-up, so you can thank your lucky stars.”
Gone? Where the hell did she think she was going? I thought of reaching out and shaking Carl awake, but the knife point was already just a hair’s breadth from puncturing my skin, and the venom in her voice told me that any sudden movements would likely be rewarded with a stab. I could scarcely believe what was happening.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Charlie. I’m not standing in your way. Put that thing away and let’s talk…”
She poked me with it. I bit my tongue. She was pinned so close to me I could feel the rise of her chest and she inhaled.
“I don’t understand, what do you want?” I said, my voice laced with panic.
She laughed quietly in the darkness.
“Just to let you know that I’ve won,” she whispered.
There was no question about it. She was crazy. She sounded like an insane villain from a movie.
“Oh my god, what the hell is actually wrong with you?”
I could tell she was a little startled at my outburst. The others stirred but nobody woke up. The knife was pulled away from my skin and I heard her breathe again behind me, still far too close for comfort. I briefly considered turning around and grabbing her, fighting back, something. But she was much stronger than I was. And clearly insane. Instead I took a deep breath and did what I could: played it cool.
“Just go to sleep, Charlie” I said and settled back down on the grass mat.
Whatever her point was, she had made it. If she was literally insane, the last thing I needed was to provoke her further. She was delusional. Maybe she was having a breakdown. But if she wanted to really stab me she would have done it already.
I waited for her to say something more but she didn’t. Exhausted, I soon fell back to sleep, too tired to figure out if
I was more insulted or more afraid at her ridiculous threat. She wasn’t going anywhere. None of us were.
And she had won? Well, congratulations, I guess. I had lost. I had lost everything. And if she wanted to stab me in the night like the crazy person she was, she was welcome to damn well try.
Chapter 17 - Anthony
A harsh blade of morning sunshine forced my tender eyes open. I groaned. It felt as though every day passed on this island added a whole year of misery to my life. I felt fucking old. And tired.
With numb hands, I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and tried to stand up. I looked down at my mosquito bitten, burnt legs. I looked up at the trees overhead, their dark leaves completely disinterested in my misery down below. I looked down again at my worn-out body. My clothes were dirty. My fingernails were black. I don’t remember choosing this particular spot to collapse on, but fuck it.
With incredible effort, I hauled myself up to standing and tried to draw a fresh breath. The oxygen stung my lungs. It had been a long, long time since I felt this way. But why bother with moderation and restraint when nobody else in this worthless world did? I wobbled on sore knees and realized that I was not hungover, but still drunk. Very drunk. I knew this feeling well – the dull, low-grade sense of panic that comes with the body realizing it’s been moderately poisoned.
Just the thought of the word ‘poison’ sent a deep rolling lurch through my stomach, and I involuntarily staggered forward, folded over and vomited long and hard. A thin, burning torrent of clear liquid shot out of me like a demon. Before last night, I hadn’t had a drink in at least a year. And now, within a short time frame, I had guzzled down almost two bottles of the stuff. I stared at the puddle of puke between my feet. Well, at least some of it was gone, now.
As though a vice grip had been tightened around my skull, my head thumped violently, and I could feel it all down through my face and into my jaw. I had the horrifying sense that all my organs had somehow come loose and were now rattling inside me; that each step had to be taken very carefully or I’d tear something internally and land up with as much integrity as that puddle of vomit. But it was nothing compared to the pain I felt as my new reality dawned on me. Before last night, I could have believed that things were going to be OK. That Ellie and I would be OK, and that this was all just an unfortunate glitch on the bigger picture of our lives together.
But now?
Fuck her.
And fuck him.
Why should I hide in the bushes? I was the wronged party here, and yet I was lurking away from the main camp? No way. In a few short days, everything that I thought of as real and good had been smashed into tiny pieces. I had nothing left. Well, except for that thing.
I turned to look at the thing in question, my latest discovery, lying inanimate off to the side. From here, to get back to the others was probably only a ten-minute walk for a healthy, normal person. But I was no longer healthy and certainly no longer normal, and lugging that thing behind me would slow me down even more. But I thought I smelt smoke on the wind and knew that they had likely started a fire. It gave me an idea.
I looked down at it, the last thing on this earth I owned, my only remaining possession. And now it had to go. If I was to be ruined and humiliated, then fuck it, why not go all the way? Why not throw it all in the fire and be done with it already? If I couldn’t have it, then nobody could. I was done with her. Done with giving her a free ride, trying to ‘save’ her when what she really wanted was to wallow in her stupid decisions.
I bent down, tried to swallow the evil waves of nausea washing through me and grabbed hold of its rough edge. It must have weighed almost as much as I did. I dragged, paused, took a breath, then dragged again, pitching through the foliage one weak step at a time.
When I finally saw the camp, I was pleased to see that I was right – the embers in the fire were still glowing an exciting orange, and everyone was still fast asleep. The sun would likely rise in an hour or so.
I shoved the heavy thing off to the side. Then, smiling, I set to work finding more fuel to stoke the flames for my own purpose. Being out in the fresh, open beach again was clearing my head somewhat, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that last night’s binge had seriously damaged something inside me. I set one remaining bottle off to the side – having drunk two and jettisoned the others – and busied myself adding twigs and branches to the dying fire, blowing until it caught and a small flame started licking at the new fuel.
Within twenty minutes my work paid off: the fire was big and roaring, the branches inside crackling and collapsing under a heat so strong I could feel it on my face from several feet away. I grabbed the end of the moss-covered canoe and dragged it over, then with one final lug I hauled it straight into the center of the fire. With a thud it crushed the twigs underneath, briefly extinguishing the flames which then shot out the sides again, flickering viciously along the flanks of the boat and sending out yellow sparks and smoke. Within a minute the fire had a hold of that ancient wood and was quickly turning it black.
I slumped down onto the white sand and watched it.
Good.
A few hours ago, it was a ticket out of here for Ellie and I, a boat to float us away from this mess. Now it was sailing its last journey on a river of hot fire, and would soon be nothing more than ashes. The thought made me laugh out loud. Some images you never forget. Seeing my parents’ smiling faces as I stepped onto the stage at my prize-giving ceremony. Seeing Ellie’s face for the first time. And now, another image was burnt in there: seeing Ellie locked in a passionate kiss with some young jock, pressed up against him like the whole future I had planned for her had counted for nothing.
This was the way life worked now, apparently. No justice, no sanity, just everyone’s lives balancing on one sudden and senseless accident after another. The storm had wrecked everything, and then, when I came walking back to our camp from the other side of the island, a second shock hit me harder than any storm could: I stood in disbelief and watched her as she kissed him, far out on a scratchy black patch of rock.
And now everything was different. If she wanted to destroy the life I had painstakingly created for her, well, let me help her! I’d gladly throw it all away. The flames were digging deeper into the dry wood now, growing higher and more violent. And to think she had the nerve to ask me to stop drinking.
“Fuck you! Burn, you piece of shit!” I yelled and threw a clumsy handful of sand into the flames.
The palm frond roof of the dwelling shook and soon I saw a concerned head poking out to see what all the noise was. Carl’s face froze as he looked at me, then at the flames. He looked just like a frightened little gopher with a human face, and somehow this made me laugh even harder, so hard the tears were streaming down my face. Livvy’s face soon popped out too, and the roof was hastily lifted and set aside as they both stepped out, confused and horror-struck.
“That’s right, you dumb fuckers, I’m burning it!” I shouted, and came staggering to my feet. When Ellie climbed out of the pit, rubbing sleep from her eyes, I stopped laughing instantly and remembered how fucking angry I was. She shared the same dumbstruck expression as the other two, and they all three just stood and beheld the mighty flames, burning our last escape from the island to sweet, sweet smithereens. It wasn’t exactly justice, but fuck it, options were few out here.
When Charlie sprung out of the pit, she didn’t dawdle though. I had brought myself wobbling to my feet and was standing proudly in front of the blaze, but she instantly threw all her weight at me, banging my shoulders hard and sending me falling straight back.
“What the fuck are you doing?” she screeched. “How did you find it?”
For a split second I was genuinely afraid of how wide her eyes grew as she bent over me and glared at my face, fuming. I was about to prepare myself for a beating when she spun around and grabbed hold of the end of the canoe, then tried desperately to yank it out of the flames. It budged little – but it brought the fire with it. S
he grimaced and jumped away from the heat, her hands blackened.
“That boat is mine! How dare you! Are you insane? That was my ticket out of here, you stupid idiot!” she yelled, hopping from foot to foot like she was about to explode with rage.
“Your ticket?” I slurred. “Bitch, I found it, it’s mine. And now I’m burning it,” I laughed.
The face she gave me was so dripping with rage it was almost as hot as the fire between us both.
“I’ll fucking kill you,” she hissed, and lowered her weight like she was going to pounce on me. But she thought better of attacking me and instead tried again anxiously to pull the boat from the flames.
The others had snapped out of their stupor and were now yelling at me, yelling at Charlie, yelling at each other.
“Is that a boat?”
“Where on earth did that come from?”
“Everyone just calm down!”
“Anthony what happened to you?”
“Tell me that’s not vodka.”
“Oh my god, there are other people here?
Ellie and I stood on opposite sides of the blaze, time slowing down for a moment, just enough for us to lock eyes. She was still just as beautiful as always, but this time she was tainted.
Dirty.
I had forgiven everything in her past before because she needed me, because I was the one who was going to save her from it all. The fact is that Ellie was never the perfect woman, and I couldn’t pretend she was anymore.
She was broken.
In the past her brokenness had made her interesting. Had made her vulnerable. Had made her mine. But not anymore. Now the potential for purity I had seen in her was all gone. She was just a worthless, typical woman, and I had been a fool trying to help her in the first place.
She looked at me sadly but I felt nothing. I tore my gaze from hers and saw that Charlie was now trying to roll the boat in the sand to quench the flames. Nope. I couldn’t have her do that. I leaped at her and clutched her around her waist, tackling her to the ground. She cried out and fought back immediately, bringing down a rain of pummeling fists onto my neck and head. The pain was so intense I was sure she had split my skull open like a watermelon, but she didn’t stop there.
