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The Holdout

Page 11

by Laurel Osterkamp


  My jaw clenches. “That’s not true,” I say. The tribal credit music is reaching its climax with a crescendo of drums. Before I was on the show I used to love the theme song, but now it sets me on edge. I press my right fingernail into my palm. “My swimming has barely come into it at all.”

  “No,” says Ian. He speaks with such authority, as though his watching the show makes him more of an expert on my life than me, who has simply lived it. “Grant knew from the first episode you were a good swimmer. That’s why he picked you for his alliance. If you hadn’t been in his alliance you would have been voted out early, like that guy who wore the straw fedora.”

  “Joel,” I say.

  “Yeah, that guy. You know, he sort of reminded me of Monty.”

  Jack laughs. “Didn’t he get voted out because Bailey thought he was gay? Maybe we should get Monty a hat like his for Christmas.”

  Ian laughs back. “Just don’t get me a straw fedora. No self-respecting gay guy I know would ever wear one.”

  Dad sighs loudly in exasperation. “Could you all please be quiet? I’m trying to watch this!”

  Jack and Ian stop their talking and laughing, which shows that they do know how to be obedient. I press two more fingernails into my palm in an effort to quell my protestations. Ian’s theory about how I advanced in the game is what I’ve been afraid of. If he thinks that’s how it played out, probably everybody else does too. The world knows that I just rode on Grant’s slimy coattails.

  Relax, I tell myself. In an hour this ordeal will be over, and you can overdose on angst alone, in the privacy of your own bedroom. I relax my hand, stretch my fingers out, and focus on the T.V.

  The first shot is of rain. We were all huddled under the fort in a damp, depressed lump. Then Henry emerged and went for a walk. The scene switches to a testimonial as Henry faced the camera. His hair was standing on end, his light brown beard was as thick as it most likely had ever been in his life, and his heavy eyelids were drooping. But his smile was a mile long.

  “So it’s been raining for two days straight. There is nothing to do but sit around and grow mildew on our broken down bodies. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore so I went for a walk. I figured I was already wet and walking in the rain wasn’t going to affect me much. Plus, my muscles were starting to atrophy. Moving felt good.”

  The camera switches to Henry walking around, but it keeps the voice-over of his testimonial.

  “I’m walking through the woods when I notice, off to the side, a tree with a round hollow. I still don’t know what possessed me to do this, but I decided to go over and stick my hand into that hollow.”

  Henry is shown stepping over twigs and under branches to reach the tree. When he got to the tree he reached into the hollow, and his hand emerged holding a little tan bundle.

  “I’d call it intuition but I’m not sure I believe in such a thing. Anyway,” Henry said, “What do you know? When I unwrapped the fabric there was a note and a small brown necklace.”

  Henry’s note is shown on camera and his voice-over read it. “Play this idol and you are free. Voted out is something you won’t be.”

  Then Henry’s face is back for his testimonial. He laughed. “Who writes these things? Does somebody actually get paid to come up with these stupid little rhymes?” He shook his head. “Oh my God! I have an immunity idol! I’m safe for one more round of voting! This is huge!” He kissed the idol and then tucked it away.

  More shots are shown of us complaining about how cold and wet we were. Then the sun came out. I went out with the scuba gear to catch some fish. Bailey cleaned up camp. Henry went off for another walk, and Grant and Klemi sat and cuddled on the cliffs above the ocean.

  “It will be you and me in the final two,” Klemi said, in her thick Puerto Rican accent. “I can’t wait for everyone else to be gone. Then we’ll finally have some privacy.”

  “Tell me about it.” Grant pulled her in for a kiss, and she responded with passion. Watching on the couch I wish I could lunge through the television screen and beat them both up.

  Ian shakes his head. “I can’t believe that guy. He really fooled both of you, didn’t he?”

  Anger is walloping my insides but I have to keep it hidden. I just smile and shrug my shoulders. My dad speaks up. “Robin is a smart girl. She’ll kick him to the curb sooner or later, won’t you Honey?”

  “She’s not allowed to tell you anything,” Aunt Natalie chides. “You two leave her alone.”

  I silently thank Natalie and we all continue to watch.

  After Grant broke away from the kiss he looked down. Who did he see below but Henry, out for his walk?

  “Did he see us kissing?” Klemi asked.

  “Who cares?” Grant kissed her forehead, and the affection of that gesture bothers me more than their passionate tongue dance from before. “That guy is a freak. He’ll be gone after the next challenge. There’s no way he’s winning immunity again so we’ll finally get to vote him out.”

  Klemi stuck out her lower lip in a pout. “You said we were voting out Robin.”

  Grant winked at her. “You’re right, Baby. We’ll vote out Robin next, then Henry after that.”

  My family all lets out a collective groan and the couch practically shakes beneath their communal frustration. “I really hate that guy!” Natalie says to nobody in particular. Jack and Ian voice their agreement. Only my dad remains rapt, his eyes and his focus never leaving the television screen.

  But then, Oh My God, they show the scene with Grant and me making out behind the trees. Only with some fancy editing it looks like we’re doing more than just heavy petting. Grant was on top of me, then I pushed him away, then he whispered in my ear. I smiled and said okay. Then they used some earlier footage, but it looks like it just happened, and he was back on top of me and the scene fades, leaving the audience to believe I agreed to have sex with Grant on national television.

  Cut to commercial.

  I can’t look at my dad. I can’t look anywhere but my lap. My cheeks are burning and there’s a big lump in my throat. It’s so big I can’t imagine ever being able to ever say anything again, ever.

  Everyone is quiet for what feels like a month but it can’t more than thirty seconds to a minute. By the time the Alec Baldwin commercial for travel insurance, or whatever it is, ends, Jack thinks of something to say.

  “I think we should call Ted. He’s got to be connected. With all the New York business contacts he has, I bet a few of them are in the mob. He could put a hit out on that guy.”

  “We’ll call Ted after the show tonight.” Ian says this with resolve. He turns to me. “You can give us Grant’s address, right? It will make it easier for the hit-man to find him.”

  “That’s not funny,” I murmur. I force myself to turn in Dad’s direction. “The editing… that wasn’t what it looked like. I wouldn’t do that, not on national television.” I look up and across the room, at everyone. “You all have to believe me.”

  Dad swallows roughly and pats my knee. “Sure, Honey. I believe you. Anyway, you’re a grown woman. You can make your own decisions about that stuff.”

  My chest rises and falls as I force myself to keep breathing. “Yeah, of course, but I wouldn’t decide to do that on national television.”

  Natalie shakes her head. “Oh, Robin.” She says my name like I’m a kindergartner who just peed her pants. “Aren’t we simply talking technicalities here? You were awfully intimate with him. I don’t care how good the editing is, you can’t just make something like that up.”

  I hang my head in shame.

  “Lay off her, Natalie.” My dad raises his voice, which happens about as often as a heat wave in November. Natalie’s eyes widen in surprise but she doesn’t say anything back. The show returns from commercial. “And nobody had better talk while this is on. The challenge is coming up and I bet Robin does great.” He pats my knee and eyes the TV once again.

  But before the challenge they show Grant and me during our p
ost-make-out walk back to camp. We ran into Henry, laughed, and walked away. Grant muttered, “That guy is everywhere,” which I had originally missed but obviously the camera didn’t.

  Then comes a conversation with Henry and me, which I have tried and tried to forget. Because every time I remember I feel like hitting my head repeatedly until my brain surrenders and admits how stupid it was.

  I was wading by myself as the sun set over the ocean, when Henry found me.

  “You know Grant is two-timing you, right?”

  From the couch I watch my electronic self react through squinted eyes. My physical reaction is the same now as it was then. My throat goes dry and my pulse is hammering in my ears. I don’t want to believe it’s true.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  “I saw Grant and Klemi this morning, while you were fishing. They were together, kissing up on the rocks. He’s playing both of you.”

  I shook my head at him. “You’re making this up. You just want me to vote with you, against Grant.”

  Henry took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with sandy fingers “Ouch,” he said. He blinked a couple of times. I saw him tear up a little and I wasn’t super clear on whether it was due to pain or emotion. “Look,” he said. “I understand the whole ‘shoot the messenger’ thing. But think about it. Am I really so stupid? What do I possibly have to gain if it isn’t true?”

  All my emotions had risen to the edge, into the danger zone beneath my skin. A pinprick would have caused them to come flooding out, like water from a de-thawed, pipe.

  “Stay away from me,” I said. I even poked his sunburnt shoulder with my index finger. “I know you’re desperate. You know there’s no way you’re staying. You’re just doing whatever you can to buy yourself some time.”

  “You’re wrong!” he said. And he dug his hand into his pocket and brought out his immunity idol. “I found this, this morning. I have immunity. So I’m not going anywhere. The only reason I’m saying anything at all is because you’re the only person left who I can stand. If you and I vote together we can get Grant out. Then maybe we’ll have a shot. But if we don’t, well, Grant is lying to you. And he will win. So if you think you’re safe, think again.”

  My dad speaks to Ian, Jack, and Natalie. “See! I was right! Robin’s not going to be taken in by that guy. Right, Robin?”

  “Dad, you’re the one who yelled at everyone not to talk. Just watch the show.”

  The show cuts to the immunity challenge. What they don’t show is the sleepless night I spent, unable to keep my eyes off of Grant and Klemi as we all slept together underneath the shelter. Were they inching close to each other? I couldn’t tell in the darkness but I couldn’t look away. And I couldn’t quiet my doubts.

  I woke the next morning more tired than I’ve ever been. They show me struggling around camp and I remember how every muscle ached. How my head throbbed. How my throat felt like it was lined with felt. I was aware of every single nerve in each one of my toes and all I wanted was a tall glass of water and a soft bed in a dark, quiet room.

  I was seriously considering just quitting the game.

  Then we got to the immunity challenge and Joe Pine explained our task. We had to walk on top of a log maze with a bowl of rice balanced on our heads. If ever our feet, the bowl, or the rice were to fall to the ground, we had to go back to the start. First person to finish the long, complex log course won immunity.

  Here’s the thing. The top of my head is amazingly flat. I discovered this at ten years old, back when I was convinced I wanted to be a super model. I spent hours in my bedroom, walking around with books on my head because I’d heard that’s how models trained themselves. I never once dropped the books.

  I also have good balance. I just do.

  So I knew that if ever there was a challenge I could win, this one was it. I knew if ever there was a challenge I had to win, this one was it. Suddenly my doubts about the game disappeared and were replaced with unwavering confidence. I was no longer thirsty or in pain. I was practically laughing as the five of us stood on top of the logs, balancing our bowls, ready to race.

  Ian notices the look on my face, and says, “Robbie, you look so happy! Did somebody say something funny right before you got up there?”

  “Just watch,” I say.

  Joe Pine yelled, “Castaways ready, and go!”

  It was like I was back in my childhood bedroom, listening to New Kids on the Block while doing dance moves with Encyclopedia Britannica balanced upon my head. It was that easy.

  “Robin’s off to an excellent start!” Joe yelled. “She’s leaving everyone else in the dust!”

  I turned each corner with ease, the bowl never threatening to waver from the flatness of my head. I hear Joe behind me. “And Grant’s bowl is down. He has to go back!”

  I smiled and kept on. “Klemi’s fallen!” Joe yelled. “She has to start again as well.”

  I started to think I was being too confident, and I slowed down for the final stretch. But Bailey and Henry never even got off the ground, so I was all by myself when I reached the finish line.

  Joe waved his hands in the air. “It’s over before it’s even begun! Robin wins immunity! This has got to be the easiest victory ever won in Holdout history!”

  My family is cheering and screaming, jumping up and down in their seats. I can’t help but smile at my victory, as Dad and Ian hug me from either side. Dad’s phone rings.

  “It’s Ted,” he says. He speaks into the phone. “I know! She was amazing, wasn’t she?” Dad hugs me again and hands me his cell. “Ted wants to speak to you.”

  One ear is listening to Ted saying the nicest things he’s ever said to me. “You were incredible!” he shouted. “I had no idea you had that in you!”

  I thank him for the backhanded compliments, but my other ear is listening to the TV as I watch Joe Pine put the immunity necklace around my neck. I’m beaming, and as the camera pans across my tribemates’ faces my victory feels even better compared to their defeat.

  It’s good I enjoyed that moment, because it all went down hill from there.

  Chapter 9

  Jack had asked me to keep his current living situation on the down-low. “I have enough to deal with right now,” he had said. “I don’t need my mother interrogating me.”

  So after the show ended we each drove back to my apartment alone, in our respective cars, which was a relief. By nine o’clock I needed a few minutes to get a hold of myself. My incredible high of winning the immunity challenge was followed by such a ghastly low, like diving from the rim of paradise into a tub full of ice-water and slugs. And the only thing worse than living it, was watching my family relive it for me.

  When I walk into my apartment Jack’s already in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water. I give him a silent look of complaint and he responds. “I’d have done the same thing.” He’s referring to my actions at Island Assembly at the end of tonight’s episode. “Of course, my life is a mess, so I wouldn’t take that as a compliment. But I do understand why you did what you did.”

  I reach into the freezer and grab the gallon of chocolate ice cream. “I’m glad you understand, and I do take it as a compliment, even if I shouldn’t.” I step next to Jack, slide out the silverware drawer and grab a spoon. “But I’m afraid you’re the only one who will get it. My dad and Ian certainly don’t.” I stand and shovel ice cream into my mouth.

  “They just don’t like seeing you hurt.” Jack takes another spoon from the drawer, and I hold out the ice-cream container for him. He digs in.

  “What about the rest of the world? What will be their excuse?”

  Jack leans back and tilts his head to the side. “Robin. What did you think would happen when you went on a reality show? I don’t mean to sound harsh, but I can’t understand why you’re so surprised and offended that people are judging you.”

  I lick my spoon and place the ice-cream container down on the counter. “I’m not surprised. But you can’t
understand what it’s like until you’ve lived it.”

  “Yeah.” His voice is soft, sympathetic. “I keep thinking the same thing when I feel like people are judging me.” He throws his spoon in the sink and refills his water glass. “I’m picking Mikey up from school tomorrow, so I’ll be working before and after that. It’s going to be a long day. I think I’ll read and go to bed.” He kisses the top of my head, sort of like how my dad used to.

  “Yeah, I’m pretty tired too.”

  I read in bed for a while. I worry that I’ll have trouble falling asleep, but hours later I wake, my lamp still on and my book fallen to the side. I switch the light off, throw my book to the floor, and slip back into a dreamless sleep.

  §

  The next morning I’m running late. I park my car at the courthouse and I’m scurrying upstairs, trying not to spill the coffee from my travel mug. I’m just about to reach security when I hear a voice behind me.

  “Robin!”

  I turn around. Ten is walking up to me, smiling broadly. He must have skipped shaving this morning, and he looks sort of rugged.

  “So it is you!”

  “Huh?” It takes me a moment before I realize. That’s the first time he’s ever called me by name.

  “You’re Robin from The Holdout! I thought you looked familiar!” He hits his head lightly with the palm of his hand. “I had been going crazy trying to remember where I knew you from!”

  “Shhh!” I grab his arm and pull him off to the side, away from the security line.

  “What?” Ten sees my urgent expression and responds to my intensity, speaking in a raspy sort of whisper. “It’s not a big secret, is it? Because I don’t think you’re going to be able to keep people from realizing who you…”

  “Well I’m going to try!” I speak in a soft, hushed yell. Each word is a tiny exclamation point. “I don’t want anyone to know.”

  Ten’s face falls. “Oh. Why not?”

  After an exaggerated sniff, I exhale through my mouth and scold him with my eyes. Inside, I’m as embarrassed as I was back in ninth grade, when I asked Donny Romano to the Sadie Hawkins dance after he had already said yes to Mindy Maloney. I don’t want to be a big joke. I hate being a big, tall, blonde joke.

 

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