The Islanders

by Mary Alice Monroe

  “Lovie, turn around,” Macon said.

  Lovie’s eyes bugged. “Aw, no. Please tell me you are not going to do what I think you’re going to do.”

  “I don’t want to, but if it’s going to help, I’m doing it,” Macon said.

  “What are you going to do?” I asked, grimacing.

  “I have to pee on it.”

  That pierced through the pain. “Have you lost your mind?” I shouted back.

  “It’ll help. Really.”

  Lovie shook her head. “That’s totally bogus. And gross.”

  “Hey, it works.”

  “You guys!” I yelled. “For once can you stop fighting? I’m the one in pain here! Do it!” I cried.

  “I’m telling y’all… this is not what to do. Mama uses vinegar; just saying!” Lovie said, while turning her back on us and covering her face with her hands.

  I turned my head and squeezed my eyes shut. The pain made me desperate. “Just do it.”

  A warm stream hit my ankle. I didn’t know which was worse, the pain of the jellyfish sting or the fact that I let someone pee on me.

  “How do you feel now?” asked Macon. “Better, right?”

  I hoped it would work, but the prickly pain surged.

  “It feels worse!” I gagged. “I’m gonna hurl.”

  Lovie grabbed Macon’s squirt toy. “This one has vinegar in it, right?” she asked him.

  Macon nodded sheepishly. “Yeah.”

  Lovie drew near and without a word poured the vinegar-and-water solution over my ankle. It still hurt, but not as bad as before.

  “Now we have to take out the tiny stingers,” Lovie said.

  “No!” I howled. “Don’t touch it! Nobody touch it!”

  “We’ve got to get the stingers out.”

  “I don’t think that’s right,” Macon said dubiously.

  Lovie turned on him. “Said the boy who peed on his friend.”

  “Guys!” I called out to stop the arguing. “I want to go home. Honey will know what to do.”

  “I’ll take you,” Lovie offered.

  “I’m not staying out here alone,” said Macon.

  “Who’s going to keep guard?”

  “You keep guard,” Macon said. “I’ll take Jake.”

  I couldn’t listen to those two at it again. I scrambled to my feet and began hobbling up the beach. “You guys just keep fighting. I’m getting out of here.”

  Lovie and Macon stopped arguing and ran after me.

  Not a great start for Operation Coyote.

  * * *

  Honey couldn’t stop laughing when we told her what happened.

  “It’s not funny,” I said with a pout.

  I was sitting on the side of the bathtub with Honey by my side. She’d been pouring vinegar water over my red welts for a long time. But it wasn’t feeling any better. I was gritting my teeth, determined not to cry. Especially not with my friends nearby. I looked over my shoulder. Macon and Lovie crowded the door, eyes wide.

  “The pain isn’t funny,” Honey agreed as she poured more vinegar and water over my ankle. “At least you had vinegar on hand. Maybe you should’ve tried that remedy first,” she said with a short laugh and head shake.

  “But I read it was the right thing to do,” Macon said.

  “That, child, is what is known as an old wives’ tale. Right up there with not swimming after eating.”

  “That’s not true?” asked Lovie.

  “Nope.” Honey set aside the vinegar solution and dried her hands. Then she gave me the no-fooling look. “Tell me, Jake. Do you feel light-headed or dizzy? Any nausea?”

  I shook my head. “I did before, but I think I was”—I sneaked a glance at Macon and Lovie and lowered my voice—“I was a little scared. But I’m okay now. Except it still hurts. A lot.” I grimaced.

  She patted my shoulder. “I’m sorry. It will hurt for another hour or so. Pretty bad, I’m not going to lie. But I’ll put some cream on it that will help. First, though, let’s get those stingers out. Can you be brave a little longer?”

  I gritted my teeth and nodded.

  Honey slipped on her reading glasses and picked up the credit card she had waiting on the bathroom sink.

  “Can you put your ankle up in my lap? That’ll do.” Honey bent over my leg with the credit card. “I can see some of those tiny stingers in there.” She waved Macon and Lovie a little closer.

  “Jellyfish will drop hundreds of those stingers on your leg, but pouring the vinegar on it helped. Good job, Lovie,” Honey said. “Next time—though I pray there won’t be a next time—make a paste of wet sand and put that on the sting. Then take something flat, like this credit card, and very gently scrape the sand off the skin. That should take off most of the stingers with it. Watch carefully,” she said, then began scraping the welts with the edge of the credit card, like she was shaving my leg.

  I reared back and clenched my teeth, but it didn’t hurt much more than the sting already did.

  Macon and Lovie hovered, watching with wide eyes.

  “Done,” Honey exclaimed. “That wasn’t too bad, was it? The stingers are out. You’ll feel better soon.”

  Honey had me soak my ankle in a bucket of warm water. “Keep your ankle in it for ten minutes,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

  I heard her laugh again in the kitchen. She returned with a glass of water. “Here, take this,” Honey said, offering me some ibuprofen. My friends sat on the side of the tub and the toilet, keeping me company.

  Lovie giggled. “I won’t tell anybody about the jellyfish thing. But, for the record, I tried to stop you two,” she teased.

  Macon and I snorted a short laugh.

  “What happens on the island, stays on the island,” I said.

  We laughed again. Then again. Suddenly we were all laughing hard, the hold-your-belly-because-it-hurts kind of laughing.

  “That was so sick!” I cried.

  “Totally,” Macon managed to get out between laughs.

  As we laughed, I felt the fear and worry in my chest lessen. Even the stinging hurt less.

  By the time Honey returned, I knew I was on the mend. She dabbed antibiotic cream on the sting.

  “This will help make it feel much better. Now,” she said, screwing the lid back on the tube, “there’s nothing left to add but a tincture of time. Let’s bring you out to a comfortable chair.”

  What a night! I was glad to be safe and sound in the Bird’s Nest with my foot resting on a cushion on the sofa, surrounded by my friends. It was late, and I could tell everyone felt as tired as I did. Even Honey looked weary as she carried a plate of cookies into the room.

  We ate our cookies hungrily. We’d never had the chance to eat all those great snacks.

  “I guess we should get back to the nest,” Macon said when the last cookie was gone.

  “Yeah, we’ve been gone a long time,” said Lovie.

  My ankle was still killing me, but I knew my friends were eager to get back to the stakeout. “Yeah. I guess the worst is over.” I lowered my ankle and began to slowly rise from the sofa.

  “Hold on, young man,” Honey said, putting her hand out.

  I sunk back into the cushion.

  “You’re not going anywhere tonight,” Honey said. “Your ankle needs to rest. As for you two.” She looked at Macon and Lovie. “It’s late and I don’t think you two should be setting up camp. You should be in bed.”

  “But the turtles!” cried Lovie.

  “The turtles will have to survive on their own. They’ve done so for millions of years; they can do it one more night. You armed the nest. Trust your work. Honestly, I’ve never known a more protected nest. And…” She clasped her hands together with excitement. “Tomorrow is the Fourth of July. Dewees does the holiday up proper! There are going to be so many fun activities on the island for y’all to get involved in. You’ll need your energy to enjoy them all. So let’s get a good night’s sleep. Okay?”

  We kids shared
a glance, then nodded.

  “Good. I’ll drive you home. But before you go,” Honey said, holding up her hand, “there’s one final thing I want to discuss.” She waited until she had our full attention. “Jake, we have rules. And one of the biggest ones is not going into the ocean at night.”

  I sat straighter. “I didn’t go into it. Not really,” I said. “I mean, not to swim.”

  “Did you go into the water?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Did you get hurt?”

  I nodded, shamefaced.

  “Enough said. I’ll let you off this time. But know this: A jellyfish sting is not the worst that could’ve happened to you. You’re never to go in the ocean again at night, hear? At least not while you’re under my care.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She looked at Macon and Lovie.

  “Yes, ma’am,” they echoed.

  “Okay, then grab your stuff and I’ll drive you home. We’ll pick up your supplies from the gazebo tomorrow morning.”

  Honey paused at seeing our surprised faces. “What? You thought there was no Dawn Patrol? Turtles don’t know it’s a holiday!”

  CHAPTER 18

  Independence Day

  The truth shall set you free.

  THE FOURTH OF JULY WAS all friends, family, and fireworks on Dewees. Everyone was invited—and everyone came.

  I awoke early as usual for Dawn Patrol. We all raced to Lovie’s nest first. Boy were we relieved to find it safe and sound. No turtle tracks on the beach meant we could go home early.

  After we collected our supplies from the gazebo, Macon, Lovie, and I headed back to see a boatload of people arriving on the ferry. Golf carts were zipping along the dirt roads, people calling out greetings. My sleepy island was bubbling over with families and guests of the residents. The three of us looked at one another and smiled. We could feel the excitement thrumming in the air.

  The pain was gone from the sting. All that was left was an annoying itch I wasn’t allowed to scratch. So Honey kept me busy.

  “Just don’t think about it!” she said.

  Honey and I dressed in red, white, and blue. Honey even had a scarf that looked like the American flag. Every day she seemed a bit cheerier and brighter, like the clothes she wore. Together, we decorated the golf cart with leftover American flags and pinwheels and lots of red, white, and blue crepe paper. On the roof of the cart she strapped down a humongous inflatable sea turtle. It hung over the sides and looked so ridiculous, it was actually funny.

  “I think you could spot that turtle from an airplane!” I told her.

  “You’re on the Turtle Team now. Consider this festive team spirit,” Honey said, tugging on the bungee strap to make sure the float was secure. “I named this turtle Caretta caretta. You know why?”

  “Duh. It’s the scientific name of the loggerhead.”

  “Bingo! Now for the best part.” Honey went to her small workshop under the garage and pulled out a large poster board sign. She turned it over for me to read. There in bright green letters was DAWN PATROL.

  I groaned and put my forehead in my palm.

  “What? I worked hard on this sign. I was going to ask you to draw a turtle. But we’re out of time. Just give me a minute to tie this up on the back of the float.”

  A few minutes later Honey had the big sign strapped to the back of the cart.

  “Hop on!” she called, climbing behind the wheel. “I told Tessa we’d pick up Macon for the parade.”

  A few minutes later we arrived at Macon’s house. He was waiting for us on the front porch dressed in navy shorts and a red-and-white striped T-shirt. He also had a Fourth of July ball cap with stars and stripes. His eyes widened when we pulled up, and then he shook his head.

  “Oh no! I’m not riding in that!”

  I know, I mouthed.

  Honey leaned back in her seat. “Last I recall, you were on Dawn Patrol. Well sir, this here is the Dawn Patrol float. So, hop on! We’ve got a parade to catch.”

  Macon slapped my outstretched hand and hopped onto the back seat. It was a short drive to the main field across from the fire station. My jaw dropped. There were so many people! Dozens of carts were parked there, each decorated in crazy red, white, and blue everything!

  “I didn’t know this many people even lived out here!” I said.

  “Everyone who has a house likes to return to the island for the holiday. Lots of folks have their families visiting too,” Honey explained. “It’s the biggest holiday on Dewees. The more the merrier.”

  “There’s Lovie and her aunt.” I pointed toward their golf cart.

  Honey swerved past two people walking, dodged a dog running across the field, and managed to pull up next to them. Lovie and Aunt Sissy were wearing matching red shorts and white ruffled tops. Lovie’s hair was in a ponytail decorated with oversize red and blue trailing ribbons. Their cart was draped with stars and stripes bunting.

  Lovie clapped her hands when she saw the turtle. “Oh my gosh! That is so awesome!”

  “You have to ride with us,” Macon called out to her. “This is the Dawn Patrol float.”

  Aunt Sissy laughed and gave Lovie a gentle nudge forward. “Go ahead,” she told her. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

  With a quick squeal, Lovie ran to our float and hopped in the back with Macon.

  The fire truck blasted its horn, and the surrounding golf carts began honking their horns. Lovie handed out kazoos and the three of us blasted them.

  “The parade is beginning!” exclaimed Honey with excitement. She started the engine and joined the golf carts as they scrambled like bugs to line up in single file behind the fire truck.

  When the fire truck’s siren began sounding, we were off! Call it corny. Call it old-school. But it was a blast! I’d never been in a parade before. The carts bumped along the dirt road in single file to the music of Bruce Springsteen’s “Born in the USA” on a wireless speaker. Anyone on the island who wasn’t riding in a golf cart stood at the end of their drive and waved an American flag as the parade passed.

  The parade wound around the entire island as the music changed from one patriotic song to another. It ended to cheers and applause at the high dock along the creek. Colorful beach chairs lined the wide, long dock, and signs welcomed all to the Fourth of July creek float.

  The sun had risen during the parade, and I had a sheen of sweat on my brow. I looked out and saw adults and kids already in the water—swimming, lounging on inflatables, paddleboards, and kayaks. The water looked great. Lovie and I looked at each other, eager for Honey to park the cart.

  “I can’t wait to get in!” I said, excited to jump into the water.

  Macon’s mood shifted and his smile fell.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he replied. But it didn’t sound like the truth.

  We watched some older teenagers jump off the edge of the dock—whooping and hollering as they splashed into the water below.

  As soon as the cart was parked, Lovie and I hopped off and raced to the dock. Macon followed more slowly.

  “Come on, y’all!” called out Lovie. “Let’s jump in together! We’ll do a Dawn Patrol jump.”

  Macon quickly jerked away from her grasp. “You go ahead. I’ll take a pass.”

  Before we could argue, he turned his back and headed toward the main path, away from the dock.

  Lovie scrunched up her face. “Why’s he being a dud?”

  I didn’t know, so I just shrugged.

  The tide was high, and the greenish-blue water sparkled under the cloudless sky. Lovie and I got in the long line to jump. We watched, breathless, as one by one the kids took off running down the dock to cannonball into the creek. The folks sitting along the creek, young and old, always cheered and waved flags.

  When our turn came, Lovie and I held hands and looked at each other with huge grins. “Ready?” I asked.

  “Ready!”

  “On the count of three.… One.
Two. Three. Dawn Patrol!” we cried as we took off, hand in hand, running to the end of the wooden dock. For a moment we were suspended in midair. Her hand in mine.

  Then SPLASH!

  The water felt instantly cool against my hot skin. Under the water, among the bubbles, we let go of our hands and kicked our way up to the surface. Applause and cheers greeted us as our heads surfaced for air.

  Lovie’s face was pink, and she squealed, “Again!”

  “Okay!”

  We swam to the side and climbed up the rope ladder, eager to get back in line.

  “Hello, Jake!”

  Turning my head, I spotted Honey waving from her seat in the shade. She looked so happy, it made my own heart happy too. I waved back, then cast a quick glance around for Macon. But there was no sign of him.

  Lovie and I swam till our arms grew tired from fighting the creek’s current. We grabbed on to the rope ladder to rest and catch our breath.

  “Look, there’s Macon,” she said, craning her neck.

  “Where?”

  “Standing near the ice cream stand.” She waved her arm in a wide arc over her head. “Macon!” she called out. “Come on in, it’s awesome!”

  Macon was leaning against a tree, eating an ice-cream cone. He lifted the cone and shook his head no.

  “What’s his deal?” Lovie asked me.

  “I don’t know. But I’m going to find out.” I gripped the ladder and climbed out from the creek. Lovie was right behind me. Water dripped from our bodies as we raced, barefoot, across the dock to where Macon was standing under a craggy oak tree.

  “What’s up? You okay?” I asked him.

  “I’m fine.” Macon licked his cone.

  “Why won’t you join us?” I asked.

  “Because I don’t want to.”

  I stared at my friend and wondered if he could possibly still hold a grudge about the boat fiasco. But that was so long ago.

  “Macon!” Lovie said. “What’s wrong? Why are you acting this way?”

  “What way?” Macon challenged her.

  Lovie softened her tone. “Why won’t you come in the water?”