by Perrin Briar
“Who votes we stand and fight?” Bill said.
Liz and Francis raised their hands.
“Three to two,” Bill said. “Motion carried to evacuate the island.”
“Wait,” Francis said. “What about Jack?”
“He’s asleep, resting,” Bill said.
“Shouldn’t he get a vote too?”
“We’re voting for Jack’s welfare too.”
“Voting for what?” a voice behind them said.
Jack hobbled out of the shadows and into the warm glow of the candlelight. He was in his bedclothes. He rubbed his eyes.
“Jack!” Francis said.
He leapt up and wrapped his arms around his brother’s waist. Jack smiled and rested his hand on his little brother’s shoulder.
“Here’s our little hero,” Fritz said with warmth.
Jack took a step forward, and then braced himself on the wall. Everyone was up on their feet in an instant to help him.
“I’m all right,” Jack said. “But I can’t seem to walk straight.”
“It’s your ear,” Bill said. “It helps keep you balanced. Yours is damaged, so you can’t balance very well right now. You’ll get used to it.”
Fritz got up so Jack could have his chair. Jack sat down. Ernest ruffled his hair.
“This means I’ll be able to make even more noise and I won’t be able to hear it,” Jack said.
They all smiled, but the smiles didn’t touch their eyes.
“Are you hungry?” Liz said.
Jack didn’t respond, and just looked at the map.
“Jack,” Liz said.
The family shared a look of concern. Liz moved to Jack’s other side.
“Jack,” she said.
He turned to look at her.
“Are you hungry?” Liz said.
“Famished,” Jack said.
Liz’s mouth turned down as she moved to the oven. The Robinsons all looked at Jack, saddened by his injury. Liz took a deep breath, wiped her eyes and composed herself. She opened the oven’s front door and brought out a plate using a tea towel. She sat the plate before Jack on the dining table.
“Be careful,” she said. “The plate’s hot.”
Jack picked up his knife and fork and tucked into his meal. Francis ran to the desk in the corner of the room and returned with something behind his back.
“I made something for you,” Francis said to Jack.
He brought his hand out. He held a piece of cardboard in the shape of a shield. On it was written:
MEDAL OF HONOUR
TO: JACK ROBINSON
FOR OUTSTANDING BRAVERY
FROM: THE ROBINSON FAMILY
“Mum helped me with the spelling,” Francis said, “but I did all the colouring.”
“That’s amazing, Francis,” Jack said. “Thank you.”
Francis unhooked the safety pin and pinned it to Jack’s T-shirt. Jack beamed.
“We were just talking about what we’re going to do next,” Liz said. “Either leave, or stay and fight.”
“Leave?” Jack said. “Why would we leave?”
“Some of us think it’s the safer option,” Liz said.
Jack shook his head.
“No,” he said. “We’ve got to at least try. We’ve fought every day we’ve been here – against the jackals, against the weather, against everything. Lurchers are just another obstacle. In five months we haven’t had one Lurcher. Then we have a storm and a boatload turns up. We’ll just have to deal with it.”
There was a pause of reflective silence. Fritz frowned.
“Let’s put it to a vote,” Liz said. “Those who want to evacuate?”
Bill and Ernest raised their hands.
“Fritz?” Bill said. “We’re voting here.”
“I know,” Fritz said.
“Are you sure you don’t want to put your hand up?”
“Those who wish to stay and make a stand?” Liz said.
Liz, Fritz, Francis and Jack raised their hands.
“There it is, then,” Liz said. “Two to four. We stay and fight.”
Ten
Clumps of dirt flew through the air and landed on a large mound. The late morning sunlight glinted off the scratched lip of a shovel as another chunk of dirt flew through the air. Bill paused and wiped a hand over his brow, his fingers came away wet and dirty.
“Let’s take a break,” he said.
Bill threw his shovel out of the hole he was in, reached up, and pulled himself out. Ernest, on the other end of the hole, followed. A stone flew from another hole, almost striking Bill in the face. Bill peered into the hole.
“Hey!” he said. “I said let’s take a break!”
Liz and Fritz stopped, and leaned their shovels against the dirt wall of their hole. Fritz climbed out, and then helped his mother up. The men had their shirts off, looking like miners having spent the day down the pit. Liz toiled under a thin T-shirt that was soaked with sweat. The holes were ten feet long, four feet wide and seven feet deep. Before them, spread out in a chessboard-like pattern were a series of identical rectangular holes. The Robinsons drank from bottles made from hard fruit skins and bamboo canes. They sat on the edges of their pits, looking out at the jungle.
“How are we looking?” Bill said.
Jack and Francis sat on a branch with a good view of the encroaching jungle. They were attaching arrowheads and goose feathers to sticks.
“We’re all clear,” Jack said.
“Strange to think they’re on their way here now, isn’t it?” Liz said.
“But they are,” Bill said. “And we need to be ready.”
He took another pull of water, picked up his shovel and started to dig again.
“When you said a short you break, you weren’t kidding,” Liz said.
Eleven
Jack climbed a coconut tree. His small hands found handholds where a man could not even fit his toe. Twenty feet up, he looked out at the jungle. A flock of rainbow-coloured parrots flew over the treetops. In one hand he held a long stick. He reached over and hit a coconut. It fell to the ground on a bed of soft moss. Observing what Jack was doing, Nip leapt into open air and grabbed hold of the base of a broad leaf. He seized the coconuts and tossed them to the ground.
“Good boy, Nip!” Jack said.
“Is that all of them?” Ernest said from the ground.
“Yes,” Jack said.
Ernest bent down to start picking up the coconuts.
“Oh no, wait,” Jack said. “There’s one more.”
Jack swung his stick and struck the remaining coconut. It fell and landed inches from Ernest’s head. He leapt back.
“Are you insane?” he said.
“Sorry,” Jack said with a chuckle.
Jack dropped his stick, which fell a few inches to Ernest’s other side, and descended to the ground. He sat down cross legged beside Ernest. They began tying the vines together into a latticework of squares, forming a large net. They laid it out flat on the ground and put the coconuts inside it.
“Jack,” Ernest said. “Do you think you could carry this vine up to that branch?”
Jack didn’t respond.
“Don’t pretend like you can’t hear me,” Ernest said. “Your deaf ear is on the other side.”
Jack smiled.
“There’s no fooling you, is there?” he said.
Jack took to the tree, scaling it as fast as a monkey. He got to the branch Ernest had pointed at.
“Now what?” Jack said.
“Now loop the vine over the branch and throw it down to me,” Ernest said.
Jack did. Ernest took hold of the dangling vine and pulled, but the net full of coconuts would not rise off the ground. Ernest hauled the vine with all his weight, but it wasn’t enough. Jack thumped his chest with his fists and went, “A-AH-AH-AH AHHHH!” He leapt into free air and grabbed hold of the vine. Adding his weight to Ernest’s made the coconut net rise to the upper branches of the tree. They tied the vine to
a large rock.
“Can you talk to the animals too?” Ernest said to Jack. “Because that would be a huge help.”
Jack flinched, and cupped a hand over his ear.
“It’s hurting again?” Ernest said. “Go to Mum and get your medicine.”
“I’ll be all right,” Jack said.
“Go,” Ernest said in a stern voice leaving no room for argument. “Now.”
“All right, all right,” Jack said. “Mr Bossy.”
Twelve
Fritz hacked at the base of a nambu tree while Ernest held a hand to his chin in thoughtful repose.
“I think we should chop a bit more on this side,” Ernest said.
Fritz changed position and chopped where Ernest suggested.
“Now a little on this side,” Ernest said.
Fritz shot Ernest a look, who held up his hands.
“We want to get this right, don’t we?” Ernest said.
Fritz hacked at the tree. It leaned to one side, creaked ominously, and then began to fall. When it hit the ground it struck another tree that had been felled. They lay against one another, with no space to squeeze through. Ernest grinned.
“Not bad aye?” he said.
“Shut up and give me a hand with the next one,” Fritz said. “Dad wants this done by tonight.”
“Begin chopping here,” Ernest said.
“You’re a born supervisor, did you know that?”
“Know it, and love it.”
Jack and Francis ran out with their own axes and hacked at the felled tree’s branches. They dragged them toward the holes and dumped them inside. In the hole, Bill and Liz chopped the branches into two foot-long segments, and then shaved one end to form a sharp point. They buried these in the floor of the hole, the points facing up. Then they climbed out of the hole and covered it with broad leaves. The Robinson family came together.
“It’s getting late,” Liz said. “I’m going to go get the dinner on. What does everyone want?”
“Pork,” Fritz said.
“Chicken,” Ernest said.
“Steak,” Bill said.
“Ice cream!” Francis said.
“Salad!” Jack said.
“Shouldn’t we all have the same thing, like usual?” Ernest said. “To reduce waste.”
“Tomorrow is a special day,” Liz said. “I’ll cook you all whatever you want.”
“What’re you going to have?” Bill said.
Liz shrugged.
“I’m going to have a bit of each of yours,” she said. “I’m taking Francis with me.”
Liz took Francis by the hand and led him in the direction of Falcon’s Nest.
“We’d best get back to it,” Bill said. “Let’s finish building this corridor, and then you boys can call it a day.”
“Not for you?” Fritz said.
“No,” Bill said. “I have one more thing to do tonight.”
Thirteen
Bill plucked the wire. It was tight, drawn taut between two nambu trees. He turned, walked fifty paces and plucked another wire. It too was tight. A twig snapped. Bill turned, machete ready. But nothing materialised. He walked backwards, stepping over a third wire. There was another sound, like crushed autumn leaves. Bill turned to face it. Again, nothing. He picked up three spools, each attached to a different piece of wire. He climbed onto Lightfoot the donkey’s back, and began to trot away. The wire unfurled from the spools and stretched across the jungle like telephone lines.
Fourteen
The family sat round the dining table. They had moved it outside onto the courtyard to enjoy the dying sunlight. It was a cool night, and the fireflies came out to dance about their heads, adding a sense of enchantment. Liz put on an amazing spread with so much food they couldn’t fit it all on one table, and had to reach over to a second table if they wanted pork or mashed potatoes.
“This is a verifiable feast, Mum,” Ernest said.
“It’s a special day tomorrow,” Liz said. “I wanted to celebrate.”
“We’re certainly doing that,” Fritz said.
He reached for the peas. His arm jerked, and he grunted with pain. He rubbed his muscles. Bill picked up his fork, and then dropped it. He massaged his wrist.
“I see we’re all in great shape,” Liz said.
“Before we eat,” Bill said, “I thought we could say a few words.”
He extended his hands to Fritz, who sat on his right, and Ernest on his left.
“Are you serious?” Ernest said.
“We used to do it all the time before we got shipwrecked on this island,” Bill said.
“That was another life.”
“It’s important to pray to God before tomorrow.”
“I don’t believe in God,” Ernest said.
“Then do it for me,” Bill said.
Ernest sighed, grumbled, and then held his father’s hand. Everyone else followed suit and bowed their heads.
“Father,” Bill said. “I know it’s been a while since we last spoke to you, but we never forgot you. We’re in need of your help, O Lord. You brought us to this island of safety, and we are truly thankful. And we are also thankful for the five months of peace you afforded us. Please protect us during this, our darkest hour. Protect my family, for they are good honest believers in you.”
Ernest cleared his throat.
“Thank you for all your kindness,” Bill said. “Amen.”
The family, including a half-hearted whisper from Ernest, chorused: “Amen.”
“Can we eat now?” Ernest said. “Or shall we pray to the sun and the rocks as well?”
“We can eat,” Bill said.
Everyone dug in.
Fifteen
“I ate so much I’m not sure if the winch can take me,” Fritz said, holding his stomach in his hands.
“You’d better go up last, then,” Ernest said, reaching for the winch to their treehouse. “Because I’m going to sleep like a log tonight.”
“I’ll give you a hand with the washing up,” Bill said to Liz, who was stacking the plates.
“It’s okay,” Liz said. “Let’s just leave it on the table. I’ll do it tomorrow.”
“What about the leftovers?”
“We’ll keep the meat, but you can give the vegetables to the animals.”
Bill piled the leftover vegetables onto a plate and went around the corner to the animal pens. He went to the pig trough and slid the food into it. The pigs made quick work of it. Then he opened the gates to all the pens and ushered the animals out. He led the goats and sheep out by their collars and the cows by their bells. With Valiant the bull, he was more cautious, and left him to make his own way out. He left Lightfoot in his stall, the door closed. Bill shut the gates behind the other animals to prevent their return. He clapped his hands and made loud noises, startling the animals into running into the jungle that backed onto Falcon’s Nest.
He went back around to the front of the treehouse and found Liz wasn’t there. He held onto the winch, and pulled himself up. He stepped into the treehouse. Installed on the handrail of the balcony were three steel bells of a similar design to those found in old manor houses answered by serving men. Bill tugged on the wire that led off into the jungle. He shut the swing doors.
Liz was in the bedroom in her nightclothes: a baggy T-shirt and shorts. She was pinning her hair back, looking into the full-length mirror. She was a beauty, Bill reflected. Her natural dark hair had been bleached to a lighter tone by the sun, bringing out the sparkle of her green eyes. The continuous activities in maintaining the home had kept her in as good a shape as a woman ten years her junior. Bill approached her from behind and wrapped his arms around her. She held his arms as they rocked side to side. He kissed her on the neck and nuzzled her ear. She turned around and kissed him on the lips. It was slow, close, and sensual. He felt like she was trying to pass meaning through it to him.
“Shall we go to bed?” Bill said.
Liz shook her head.
“W
hy?” Bill said.
“It’ll feel like it’s the last time,” Liz said. “I don’t want it to feel like that.”
“It will be the last time,” Bill said, nodding. “The last time we do it with an island full of Lurchers.”
Liz smiled, and leaned her head against Bill’s chest. He kissed her, and then led her toward the bed.
Sixteen
Ernest sat in the corner with a candle reading Around the World in Eighty Days, clinging to it like it were a life raft. Fritz stroked the top of Beauty’s head with a feather. She had her eyes closed and was drifting to sleep. Jack sat with Nip in his lap, stroking his hair. Ernest looked up from his book.
“Are you scared about tomorrow?” Ernest said.
“No,” Fritz said. “You?”
“No. Jack?”
“Nuh-uh,” Jack said.
There was a pause.
“I’m scared,” Francis said.
“You don’t need to be scared,” Fritz said, wrapping an arm around him. “You’ve got three big brothers to take care of you.”
“But who’ll take care of you?” Francis said.
“Mum and Dad.”
“Who’ll take care of them?”
“You will.”
That made Francis smile.
“Yes,” he said. “I will.”
“We’ll protect each other,” Fritz said, “and we’ll all be here again tomorrow night. You just wait and see.”
Everyone went back to their activities. The atmosphere felt a little more relaxed. Fritz looked at Beauty. Her eyes were closed. Fritz’s smile faded. He put on the handling glove and lifted Beauty off her perch. He spoke in a low whisper.
“You have to go now,” Fritz said. “You have to take care of yourself from now on. Go and have lots of chicks and lead a good life. Do me a favour: name one of them after me. Okay?”
He went to the window and raised his arm, but she wouldn’t fly. Fritz pointed out the window.
“Go!” he said.
Beauty cocked her head to the side in confusion. Fritz thrust his arm forward, and Beauty took flight out the window. He closed it behind her.
