One Man's Island

by Thomas J. Wolfenden

  “Aye, sir!” he said with a grin and departed.

  “Well, isn’t that interesting?” he asked aloud to no one. Just then the growler phone rang and the captain picked it up. “Bridge!”

  “Bridge, this is Ensign Johnson. Damage report is negative. We lucked out on this one. Some of the hull plating is bent inwards on the port side and paint is blistered, but everything is seaworthy. There were a few minor injuries on the crew on the weather decks, but nothing serious.”

  “Very well then. Make your way back up here and we’ll get underway.”

  “Aye, sir!” he said, and the captain hung up.

  “Helm! Make turns for twenty knots, and steer for zero seven five!”

  “Zero seven five at twenty knots aye, sir!”

  The turbines came back to life, vibrating the deck under their feet reassuringly. The ship turned onto the new course, the bow rising with the swells, brass shells rolling forgotten on the foredeck under the turret.

  The captain leaned back in his chair, puffing on his pipe. He started to grin.

  Chapter 7: Another Winter

  All throughout the summer, Tim and Robyn had made strides in improving their little camp in the woods of West Virginia. Tim had solved a problem with the toilet waste by making a French drain behind the camper, and it actually worked like a small septic system. He had also gotten a small metal shed kit at a local home improvement store, and they now had it stocked with canned goods and other things they’d need to get by in case they were snowed in. They had made several trips to the library and had a huge collection of books in the increasingly cramped trailer. Every evening after supper they would both read, and Robyn proved to be a virtual sponge for information. Tim had never had any children of his own, and really had no clue on how to raise one, so he just went with the flow and taught the young girl everything he knew. He spoke to her as an adult, which wasn’t really the way all the books said to do it, but it was the only way he knew how.

  Over the past several months, she not only put on weight and was no longer the skinny kid he first met in the beginning of the summer, but she had almost lost her thick West Virginia accent, and spoke in a manner that belied her age. When they talked of things, she didn’t just dismiss topics because they were ‘stupid’ like most kids, she really wanted to learn about history, science and mathematics. She’d ask ‘why’ if she wanted to know about something, and then listened and retained the information. She also proved to be an excellent shot, and would disappear into the woods with the .22 rifle, most times returning with a rabbit or two, or a few squirrels.

  The days were growing shorter, and in the twilight of the day they sat with an American History book open, and were having a discussion on the Spanish-American War. They had started a few months prior with the trips of Christopher Columbus and the discovery of the New World, and had progressed through the American Revolution. It had started innocently enough, by Robyn’s question to an offhand comment he’d made, and ended with them both going to the library and getting as many history and geography books as they could carry. Now they were huddled in their trailer with the textbook and a world atlas, because he always thought that history and geography went hand in hand. Every time they’d get to a passage where it would mention a location, Tim would flip open the atlas, and show her where it was on the map. She was a voracious learner and Tim was amazed at her intelligence. Despite her lack of a proper education, she showed a remarkable ability and desire to learn almost everything.

  “So you’re saying that we went to war with Spain because of a mistake?”

  “Well, people were paranoid. The USS Maine exploded in Havana harbor and everyone thought it was Spanish terrorists. It wasn’t until years and years later that a few researchers theorized that the explosions were probably caused by coal dust combusting in one of the coal bunkers.”

  “I know about coal dust explosions. One happened in the mine a few years ago.”

  “Yes, and people just jumped to conclusions and we went to war with Spain. But in the process we gained a bunch of new territories and became a world Power. We had a pretty big Navy at the time, and the Great White Fleet would sail around the world, letting everyone know that the US wasn’t going to take shit off of anyone.”

  “The Great White Fleet, what’s that?”

  “All the ships were painted a really bright white, unlike the ships of today’s Navy, so everyone began calling it ‘The Great White Fleet’.”

  “Isn’t that a little arrogant?” Robyn asked.

  Tim had to smile. It was like he was talking to a thirty year old sometimes. Her vocabulary was far greater than his when he was that age. He took a sip of beer and nodded his head solemnly. “Yeah, it was. People and countries tend to get that way, unfortunately. They forget where they all started.”

  “Can I have a beer?”

  “No you may not!” Tim exclaimed.. “Maybe when you’re older, but not now and that’s my final word on it.”

  Robyn screwed her face into a tight little knot for a second and then laughed. “It was worth a shot.”

  He laughed hard at that. “How old are you again?”

  “I’m thirteen.”

  “More like thirty!” he said.

  “Okay, enough history for one night, it’s time for bed.”

  “Okay,” Robyn said agreeably, carefully marking her pages and packing up the books. After her shower was taken and teeth were brushed, Tim helped her into her bunk. Her covers were pulled up tight, and Bad Bear was securely in her arms, tucked under her chin. She looked at him seriously.

  “Tim?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m just doing what I can,” he said.

  “I know. I’m not scared anymore. Like I was when everyone died. I feel safe with you.”

  He was starting to feel uncomfortable, and he really didn’t know what to say, so he just said, “Like I said, I’m doing what I can, Robyn.”

  “You won’t let anything happen to me, will you?”

  “I’ll do my best to protect you.”

  “Do you promise?”

  He winced, hoping she didn’t notice. After a second or two he replied, “I promise, baby. Now get to sleep,” and without thinking, he leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead.

  “Good night, Tim.”

  “Good night, Robyn.”

  Tim made his way to his bed, turning off the lights as he went. He sat down on his bunk and looked back at the already sleeping child, and thought about making promises. He lay down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. So many promises in the past he’d broken. Now here was one he had to keep, no matter what. With that unsettling thought he drifted off to a troubled sleep.

  September made way for October. The leaves changed and fell from the trees. A cold, wet rain heralded in mid-November, and now the daytime temperatures barely rose above 40 Fahrenheit, and the rain threatened to turn to sleet. Tim dragged a nice sized whitetail buck he’d shot earlier up to the camper. Robyn bounded out of the trailer and ran up to him, admiring the deer.

  “Nice one, Tim!”

  “Yeah, and he’s heavy too. I thought I was going to have a heart attack dragging it back.”

  “I hope not. Are you okay?” she asked seriously, a terrified look sweeping over her face.

  “I’m fine, Robyn, I was just making a joke.”

  “It wasn’t funny,” she said flatly, screwing her face into a knot.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “You can’t die! If you die I’ll be all alone again!” she said, her tears flowing.

  “Honey, I’m not going to die anytime soon, okay? I can’t die. I’ve got to stick around a while longer anyway.”

  He went over to her and held her close until the tears diminished to a few sobs. “I promise. I’m not going to die, okay? Besides, my brother told me a while ago I had to make a difference, whatever that might mean, and I haven’t made a difference
. So I can’t go yet!”

  “Made a difference?”

  “Yeah, something my brother said to me a long time ago.” It was only a year ago, but Tim thought it seemed like a lifetime already.

  “C’mon, want to help me butcher it?”

  “I’ll get the knives!” Robyn said, her mood changing instantly. She bounded back into the camper, returning with the proper cutting tools. He had already gutted the animal where he’d shot it, so they made quick work of skinning and cutting the meat up into manageable sizes. They wrapped most of it and put it in the storage shed, securing it tightly. This time of year he really wasn’t concerned with the possibility of a bear raiding their food because they should be hibernating by now, but it never hurt to be doubly sure. The shed would act as a natural freezer since the temperature was already noticeably colder. He had saved two big steaks and put them on a plate, showing them off to Robyn theatrically.

  “Dinner, Madam!”

  “Yum!” she said, clapping happily.

  “I’ll take these in and marinate them a little with some salt and pepper, and I’ll fire up the grill and cook them properly.”

  “It’s going to snow,” she said. “You’re crazy!”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve barbequed in the snow, young lady. And you are most probably correct in your assumption that I am crazy.”

  Robyn laughed again and they went into the camper. She sat down at the dinette table, while he took out the spices and sprinkled both sides of the freshly cut steaks liberally with them. Watching intently, she said, “What are you going to do with the skin?”

  “I don’t know. I was thinking that maybe we could try to dry it out and tan it somehow, like the Indians did, and then make a few deerskin vests or something.” He had done it a few times with the rabbit pelts, and made them both winter hats out of them. They weren’t pretty, but they would keep their heads warm, so he figured he’d do the same with the deerskin.

  “That’s why I asked. I was thinking the same thing!”

  She had a habit of doing that. It was almost like she could read his mind sometimes.

  “Then it’s settled. We’ll tan it and make vests.”

  “Cool!”

  He grabbed a beer out of the fridge and picked up the plate of meat. “Get the door for me please?”

  She jumped up and opened the door for him, and stood there as he walked past.

  “Can I have a beer?”

  “No!” he laughed.

  “I had to try,” she giggled.

  “Want to help?”

  “Sure!”

  “Get a can of whatever veggies you want with dinner and heat them on the stove for me.”

  Robyn bounded off to the back of the trailer where the shed was. She came back a few minutes later with two cans. “How about creamed corn and asparagus?”

  “That sounds good to me,” he said, and she went into the trailer where he could hear the pots being banged around. He had to laugh. At that age he’d hated asparagus, and this kid loved it. She liked all kinds of vegetables. In fact, after the first few days with him, she had completely lost all aversion to them. With little urging from him, she was eating very healthily now, compared to the cookies and potato chips she had been eating. Her only straying from that was that she loved the sweet tea powder drinks and the occasional can of Coke. He was trying to set a good example by cutting down enormously on his beer and alcohol consumption, and had weaned himself down to only about three or four cigarettes a day. He’d eventually have to quit those altogether, because it was getting harder and harder to find any that weren’t stale or gnawed through by mice or rats.

  He lit up a Winston and turned on the gas to the grill he’d acquired, lighting two burners with a click of the built in igniter. It was a nice one. The price tag on it read ‘Marked Down! Now Only $1,200!!!!’ He’d have never have been able to afford something this nice, even on a cop’s salary. Now he was living high on the hog, so to speak. Anything he wanted he’d just go and get. He figured that’s what being rich was like, never having to worry about the price of something.

  He sipped his beer and let the grill get hot. He looked around at their little homestead, and thought they had it pretty well here. He’d have to flip the cammo netting around to the brown side in the next day or two, because what was perfectly hidden in the summer now stuck out like a sore thumb. He called out to Robyn to let him know when the veggies were ready, and she did in a few minutes. He placed the thick steaks on the grill, and they sizzled satisfactorily. After a few minutes on one side, he flipped them with a pair of tongs. Something he’d remembered from years ago, never, ever use a fork to turn meat. It lets the juices escape, drying out your steaks, and venison was lean enough to begin with, so he didn’t want these beautiful pieces of meat to wind up like old shoe leather. After a few minutes on the other side, he decided they were done to their liking, so he shut off the burners and closed the valve on the propane tank. Getting the dish, he used the tongs to load them up, and he carried them back into the trailer. He saw that Robyn had set the table already, and there were two steaming bowls of veggies along with all the condiments, including a bottle of A1 Steak Sauce. When he’d been that age, he would have had to be dragged away from whatever he was doing by an ear to get him to do anything to help around the house. Now here was this thirteen year old girl who did it without even being asked.

  “Did you wash up?”

  “Yes sir,” she said, holding up her hands. “Not even crud under my nails!”

  “Very good, but don’t call me sir. I work for a living.”

  “What should I call you then?”

  “Sergeant Major!” he said with mock severity. “Only officers are called sir!”

  He set the plate down on the table and went to the small sink to washing his own hands. He came over and sat down at the table, portioning out the veggies and steaks onto each of their plates.

  “So is that what you are in the Army, a Sergeant Major?”

  “Yes ma’am. Best job in the Army.”

  “Is that pretty high up?”

  “About as far as you can go, enlisted wise,” he said, cutting a piece of steak and popping it into his mouth. “Mmmmmmm!” When he’d chewed and swallowed, he looked over to Robyn who smiled back at him, mouth full of food and gave him a thumb’s up sign.

  “Well, I’m glad you approve of my culinary expertise!”

  They ate in silence and Tim looked up at a calendar he’d pinned up on the far wall behind Robyn. He noticed the date with a start. It was a year ago today The Event had happened. He’d completely forgotten his wedding anniversary, and that really didn’t matter anymore, but this one was important. He decided not to say anything to Robyn about it and continued eating. He thought about everything that had happened, and was really thankful for a lot of things. He then looked back at the calendar and saw that Thanksgiving was only a few weeks away. He’d have to do something for that. There was plenty of wild turkey around in the woods; he’d shoot one and whip up a whole Thanksgiving spread. Then he thought about how he’d cook a big bird like that. His oven was far too small. He figured he’d use the barbeque. It was large enough to put a roasting pan on one side, and use offset heat to cook it like a huge roaster. Throughout dinner he made his plans, hoping to surprise Robyn later.

  After they were finished eating, they busied themselves with the washing up and Tim noticed the light sleet had turned to snow, so he went back outside and covered the barbeque grill with a tarp. Reentering, he saw Robyn already curled up with a book at the table. He decided to grab one he’d been reading, a Melville classic, and sat down opposite her. After only about a minute or so, she began to laugh. He peered over the edge of the book with a raised eyebrow.

  “And what is so funny?”

  “Moby Dick!” she snickered.

  He laughed heartily. “It doesn’t mean that!”

  “What’s it about then?”

  “It’s about a sea cap
tain of a whaling ship back in the 1800’s. He goes crazy chasing after this huge white whale all over the seven seas, taking everything with him as he slips into madness.”

  “Is it good?”

  “It’s very good. You can read it when I’m done.”

  “Cool.”

  “What are you reading?”

  “I’m reading Treasure Island. It’s really good too.”

  “I loved that when I was a kid. How did you like Robinson Crusoe?”

  “I loved it. I really like this one too. Are there really places like those islands?”

  “Yes, there are thousands of islands like that all over the world.”

  “I’d like to go to them some day.”

  “Well, we’d better find someone who knows how to sail a big boat then, sweetheart. I know a lot about a bunch of things, but I’m no sailor.” He thought about Paul again, Paul and his island. It kept coming back to him, and he didn’t know why.

  He thought again about her reaction to the name of his book. Moby Dick had been banned in several libraries many years ago, just because some uptight prig was offended by the name. He always thought a really good library should have enough books to offend just about everyone. His way of thinking was this: You were offended? Don’t read the goddamn book. Don’t force your views on anyone else. Again he snickered to himself. Another thing he’d always said was that the world would be a much better place without all the people. Well, he thought, I was right about that idea.

  They read silently for a few more hours until Tim heard Robyn yawn. He put his book down and looked over at her.

  “Are you ready for bed?”

  “Yeah, I’m getting tired.”

  “I’m about ready too,” he said, looking at his watch, seeing it was already ten thirty PM. “Better go and brush your teeth.”

  Robyn closed her book, carefully marking her page. She grabbed an old faded t-shirt of Tim’s and headed to the tiny bathroom. He continued to read for a few more minutes with increasingly heavy eyes. He heard the shower turn on, so he figured he’d read a few more pages while she did her thing. After several minutes she came out, her hair wet and shiny. She was toweling it off and had on his t-shirt. She had put on some weight, although it looked as if she’d not yet grown an inch. His t-shirt almost swallowed her up, covering her from way below the knees and halfway down her arms.