Island Girls

by Rodzil LaBraun

  When she turned to hand me the clothes, she spotted my penis and testicles once again, and jerked her head back in embarrassment more than disgust. "Could you cover up, please?"

  "Actually, I was hoping that you would help me get dressed."

  "We just met," Nancy answered like the notion shocked her. "I don't think that is appropriate. I'll just set your clothes on the bed." She did so while keeping her eyes averted.

  "Nancy," I said as I grabbed her wrist. I just meant to get her attention, but the contact jolted her. "Sorry," I said as I released my grip. "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, but I intend to have a look around for myself. I'm not sure that I can dress myself just yet. I'm prepared to walk around naked if I have to."

  "You need to rest," she responded with her back to me. She did not walk away, though, so I decided to keep trying to enlist her assistance.

  "Maybe you could hold the boxers open and slide them over my feet for me. You can do that with your head turned, I think. After my junk gets covered, you'll probably feel more at ease. Please help me, Nancy."

  "Okay," she relented. "Keep your junk away from my hair. And don't touch me again. It's nice to finally have someone to talk to, but we are not a couple. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, Nancy. I understand."

  I watched as she slid my boxers up to my thighs. I allowed her time to step away as I slid off the edge of the bed. When my feet hit the floor, I was expecting the cold hard feel of concrete. Instead, the surface was warm, and gave slightly with the impact.

  I was able to reach down and pull up my underwear. After that, Nancy had no issues with assisting me getting into the shorts and t-shirt. There was no way that I could have done it on my own. And I was determined to have a look see at this very unusual jail of ours.

  She told me not to touch her again, and I respected that. My original plan was to place one arm around her shoulders for support as I walked. Looks like I'll have to lean against the wall instead. The bamboo barrier was surprisingly uniform and spongy to my touch. I was tempted to ask Nancy if she knew anything about the construction of this place. Before I opened my mouth to do so, I realized that I would just get the same response that she had given to most of my questions. She didn't know.

  If Nancy was the only other person that I could have contact with, I must put forth some serious effort to keep from distancing her. I was lucky to get through the nudity issue without causing more damage.

  There were no doors except for on the tiny rooms with the toilet and the shower. Not on the bedrooms. Not to the outside. What kind of prison doesn't have doors? I was thoroughly confused at this point. The common room, if you could call it that, was minimal in size like the rest of the place. There was an efficiency kitchen along one wall with a refrigerator, sink, and a weird looking microwave. A small table, maybe three foot in diameter at most, sat in the middle of the space with four simple chairs tucked under. If I had somehow landed in a resort instead of jail, it was a super cheap one.

  I thought back to how Mister Gonzalez and his friends had all disappeared. I liked that guy. He always seemed to take an interest in me instead of ordering me around like the rich guy that he was. Maybe he had found me after all and put me up here. But, if that was the case, who the fuck was Nancy?

  I continued to use one hand to balance me as I shielded my eyes from the brightness of the doorway to the outside. The table and chairs were surprisingly sturdy. Nancy walked alongside me as if she was expecting me to fall on my face at any moment. Would she break her no contact rule to keep me from hitting the floor?

  Once I reached the threshold to the outdoors, I took the time to examine it. The construction was all one piece, unlike most wooden door frames. It even meshed with the wall seamlessly. On the floor, though, there were two cracks. It was possible that the door was retracted into the floor. That was an extremely unusual design. It didn't make any sense to me. Along the top of the door frame were three tiny holes. I couldn't determine their purpose, unless they had sensors to prevent the door from coming up while someone was in the way.

  The first few feet of sand outside our barracks was in the shade. Again, I was surprised that it wasn't cool to the touch. Maybe the sun had been shining on it not long ago. The air temperature was comfortably warm out there. Maybe seventy-five to eighty degrees.

  Directly in front of me was the ocean. Well, I assumed that it was an ocean. There was no other land visible. The waves were way too small for it to be the Pacific, though. Maybe it was the Caribbean Sea. I took a deep breath and found very little odor typically associated with the beach. Usually, the smell of salt was noticeable from miles away.

  Straight out from the door of our building was a pier that was merely four feet wide and maybe twenty feet long. It was the sort of thing that was designed solely for fishing. I doubted that any boats were intending to dock there. There was no place to tie them on, for one thing. And the water was likely too shallow for anything but kayaks and canoes. The surface of the walkway was only inches from the height of the water as it lapped against the sand. Either we were at high tide or there was no tide. Nothing on the beach indicated that the water had ever risen higher than it currently was.

  My legs began to shake uncontrollably. I had fought hard to maintain my balance to this point, but I would soon lose that battle if I don't sit down.

  "You're gonna fall," Nancy told me. She said it like I was too stubborn to admit it. I almost was. I retreated to one of the chairs. Nancy pulled it out for me. The thing was made of similar material as the rest of the place and had no seams or connections. It was all one piece, like something that had been three dimensional printed. I was beginning to believe that everything I had seen so far was.

  "Are you hungry?" she asked as she opened the refrigerator door. I could see inside on the left were four shelves with maybe six inches or so between them. My prepared meal was resting on the second shelf with my name printed on the front. Not written. Printed directly onto the container. On the right side were two shelves. The top one had four orange and black drinking bottles. Two were labelled for Nancy and the other two had my name printed on them.

  I had always prided myself on being able to figure things out quicker than most people. Some of that skill might have been hereditary, since my mother had said I was always that way since childhood. The skill expanded even more while I was in the military. And again, as a security guard. But this place was confusing the shit out of me.

  Part of the problem was that I had some preconceived notions. I had assumed that I was in either a medical or restraining facility. However, this location did not match up with either of those possibilities.

  If it was a hospital, then where were the medical staff? There was nothing in my room that was designed for treating injury or monitoring my status. Hell, there was nothing anywhere that spoke of a medical facility.

  So, a prison then? Maybe. There might be a door that rises up at the end of the day to keep us in, and other dangerous prisoners out. Nancy said that we were walled in. But the beach? The pier? This was the most wonderful looking prison ever, if it was one.

  Neither Nancy or I knew why we were here, or where this place even was. The barracks were built to house four people, but there was no one else around. I would have to wait for something to happen before I could figure this out. Maybe an administrator would soon make themselves known and explain everything. My brain was getting tired as it wrestled with so few clues.

  Nancy stood in front of the refrigerator staring at me with mild annoyance. One hand was holding open the door while the other was around the food container with my name on it. Oh, that's right. She asked me a question. Am I hungry?

  "Yes, sorry. I'm hungry. I was just trying to figure out where we are."

  "I get it. I was the same way yesterday."

  I watched as Nancy approached the unit that resembled a microwave. It was roughly the right size and shape, but it didn't have any buttons on the front. Or a visible wa
y to open the door to put the food inside. Once she got close enough with the container the door swung open on its own, without a sound. Nancy, having eaten a couple meals here already, seemed to know what she was doing. After placing the dish inside, she turned and walked back to the table. I leaned over to the side to see around her. I was curious about what was going to happen.

  It was unusual, but not very exciting. The door closed on its own, much like it opened. The unit made no noise, but a light was visible through the translucent door. Was it heating up my food?

  "Weird, right?" Nancy asked. "It took me a while with my first meal to figure it out. The thing knows how long to cook it automatically somehow. And it will be heated through evenly, too. It's amazing, really."

  "What's in the dish?"

  "I don't know. I didn't check it. It will be a surprise."

  I didn't particularly care for surprises with my food. However, if this place was constructed for us, there was a lot of care taken to make it so nice. They surely wouldn't do that just to poison me with my first meal.

  Nancy must have read the expression on my face and said, "There is only one dish in there for you, so it is not like you have a choice."

  "What is in the drink bottles?"

  "Mine is water, I think," she replied. "I mean, it is clear liquid and has very little taste to it. But it is extremely smooth going down. I used to drink like ten bottles of water a day, so it is perfect for me."

  "You don't think that mine will be water, too?"

  "No," she replied sheepishly. She must have looked to see what was inside mine already. "One is red and the other is yellow. They taste like a sport drink. Sorry, I was curious. I didn't put my mouth on the bottle."

  Then the door swung open on the microwave type unit. There was no bell to notify us that the food was ready. If I wasn't already facing the right direction I would not have known. Nancy fetched the dish and sat it in front of me. It was a square ceramic type container that was about eight inches wide and two inches tall. There was a knob on top to remove the lid. Again, I was shocked that the lid was not hot from the cooking or heating up of the food.

  Inside was a greenish pasta with red sauce and little brown cubes. It tasted like meat but did not have the same texture. The meal was fucking amazing! I immediately considered it the best food that I had ever eaten. Prison grub it was not! Maybe I was just so hungry that it tasted that good.

  Nancy smiled as I devoured my food. "Good, isn't it?" she asked.

  Between bites I replied, "did you have the same thing?"

  "No, not yet. My meals were different each time, but incredibly tasty. It is like they already know what we like to eat."

  The comment struck a chord in me. It was true. This food tasted too good to me to be pure luck on the side of the chef. They had to know in advance what I liked.

  "I've had beans, carrots, applesauce, bread and cheese. There was something that tasted like roasted chicken, but it was all diced up and melted in my mouth."

  I finished my meal like I had been starving for days. Maybe I was. I wouldn't know. The drug induced sleep that I was recovering from felt like a coma. It was disorienting in itself. Waking up here just added to it.

  Once I licked my dish clean using my finger, I retreated to my room for a nap. I apologized to Nancy, but she claimed to totally understand how I felt. She said that I would feel a lot better after some rest. At least that was how she felt.

  My head was only on the pillow for a minute when I heard a loud voice telling someone to go into their barracks. The command came from a distance, so I assumed that it was not directed toward us. Nancy was in her room as well when she heard the noise.

  We both scrambled out of bed to see what was going on. A far away male voice without amplification declared that he didn't want to go back into the barracks as instructed. Then he screamed in pain. A female voice then joined his, only she sounded scared instead. Our jailers apparently punished the man's disobedience.

  The way our building was situated, we'd have to go out the door then around the corner to get a look at what was going on. The sounds were coming through the high window in the bedroom. If there was a tall wall blocking our view, as Nancy described, we still wouldn't be able to see anything.

  We were no longer given that option, though. One of my deductions turned out to be accurate. After two warning beeps, the outside door did indeed rise up out of the floor to fit snugly into the frame, completely blocking any chance of exiting. It looked like we were going to be locked in for the night.

  "Don't worry," Nancy told me. "The door will open up again early in the morning. I was already asleep last night when it closed."

  "Was your breakfast already here when you woke up?" I asked.

  "Yes," she replied.

  "How did they bring the food in with the door closed?"

  Nancy gave it some thought. It apparently had not occurred to her before. I waited patiently for her to think it through. Then finally she answered, "I don't know."

  CHAPTER THREE:

  I awoke suddenly to the sound of Nancy pulling a chair across the floor a mere few inches. Just enough for her to have a seat at the table. I could see her food dish from my pillow as her hands removed the lid. She must have heated it up before making enough noise to wake me. Her legs and bare feet under the table were also visible. She was wearing the same shorts as yesterday.

  I had tried to stay awake and listen for sounds during the night, but of course I fell asleep. My body was still very lethargic. That was something that I was not used to experiencing. I did feel a lot better as I sat up in the edge of my bed.

  There was no evidence of anyone having come into my room during the night. I was still wearing the same clothes. My dresser drawer was just as I left it, gaping about an inch. Yet somehow, my casts had been removed. Each arm had the three circles that Nancy had predicted.

  I wondered if she had come in to check on me. I was a very light sleeper when I wanted to be. However, in my current condition, that might not be true. There were no doors on our bedrooms, so I could have gone into her room during the night if I wanted. If we remained as the only two people around here the time may come that I choose to visit her a bedroom. She was certainly attractive and somewhat fit. It would be bound to happen eventually. The chemicals in our bodies make us do things whether we think it a good idea or not.

  The existence of my roommate's new dish and a new meal indicated that breakfast had been delivered to our refrigerator without either of us being able to witness it. Not being able to explain stuff was always a difficult thing for me to accept. I wanted to know how every piece of equipment worked. I scrutinized so-called magicians to discover their secrets. Things like that.

  "Good morning," Nancy greeted me as I walked into the common room. She was a little too chipper for a cell mate, I thought. She had only been here one more day than me. She should still be trying to figure this shit out. Unless, of course, her circumstance was different.

  I remembered stories of killers that pretended to be one of the hostages. I always thought that the other people must not have been too observant to miss picking up on any clues. That couldn't happen to me, I always told myself. But maybe it could, if the prank were well conceived and acted. Could Nancy be faking it? Could she be my captor instead of my cell mate? It was entirely possible based on her declared lack of knowledge. She didn't seem to have much interest in escape, either.

  "Good morning," I replied. "How is your breakfast?"

  "It's awesome, of course," she said as she chewed half of a boiled egg that she had just bitten into. It was completely round instead of oblong and did not have a yoke. What kind of egg didn't have a yoke? Instead, it was slightly yellower in the middle than close to the outsides.

  "Is that an egg or a golf ball?"

  Nancy chuckled a little before responding, "It tastes like an egg. You know, like from a chicken. Only better. The white pudding tastes like potatoes and butter with a little seasonin
g. So, I guess it is thoroughly mashed potatoes instead of pudding, which is what I had assumed that it was when I took my first bite. How are you feeling? Do you need me to heat up your food?"

  "No, I think I can handle it. Our jailers seem to have removed all the guess work. I wonder what is in my dish."

  "Oh, it is the same as mine this time," she replied without embarrassment. "I checked it this morning so it wouldn't be a surprise. The garlic bread is really good, too. Or, is it cheesy bread with garlic? I don't know, but it is good and toasted perfectly. I have no idea how they did that in a microwave."

  "I would not be surprised if this box was not even a microwave at all," I said as I leaned against the counter waiting for the door to pop back open so I could retrieve my heated food. "The flavor and consistency of the food rules out that possibility. I'm guessing that it is some new technology."

  "Ooh, maybe that is why we are here," Nancy said with a mouthful of potatoes that she was easily able to swallow before continuing. "We might be testers!"