by Marien Dore
I was debating that moment at whether I should apologize for the dream causing this. It was probably my fault that this happened. It kept him awake, and I had been restless. I just didn’t want to bring it up only to have him question me. Going back and forth on it didn’t last when he eventually sat up. Brown eyes meeting mine, he spoke. “Well, all we can do now is work on the spear, which should be easy,” he mumbled with sarcasm. He stood and extended his hand, helping me to my feet.
We walked to the beach, the sound of waves as our guide. The day was already scorching hot. The heat had me sweating, the drops running down my neck, chest, and stomach. I noticed that being without a shirt around him no longer bothered me as much, but I was always going to be self-conscious.
Standing in the water now with our heads dipped down, we scanned the sandy bottom to find a sharp stone. One that could easily wear away the wood of a stick. We just needed to make a sharp enough point on the end of it. Once we found a rock to do that, we had another task to complete as we walked back up the beach.
Mr. Rush stood before me with a relaxed expression. I noticed that he was tanner, and his figure was leaner than before. Guess living on dew, coconuts, and the hope for more could do that. “We need to find a thick and firm stick. It can’t break easily, but it needs to fit comfortably in our hands.” He walked away without giving me a chance to respond. Probably on purpose because he knew a comment like that required a little teasing on my part.
When I walked behind him up to the trees again, we started our search for the perfect stick. Five minutes later, or what I guessed was five minutes, we found what we needed. I picked up a straight stick, as wide as a broomstick. It was nearly as tall as me too. I handed it to Mr. Rush who took it as we sat down. The stick in his lap and stone in hand, he got to work.
I sat by him, feeling helpless at doing nothing. I sure wasn’t bored, though. I watched with fascination as he began. He took the stone, pressing it to the stick’s end and edge. He moved the stone down along the rough texture, then back up to repeat it in a fast motion. The end became smaller and sharper each time the rock and stick made contact. So he kept at it, moving the stone evenly around each side. The man had more success than he did with the fire. That didn’t mean there was a huge or noticeable difference with the stick at first. This was going to take a while.
As I watched him work, I realized something with a smile. “You are a survivor, you know,” I said, complimenting him before I knew it. It felt weird leaving my lips, but I was glad I said it when a white smile crossed his mouth.
“What do you mean?” he asked as he searched my eyes.
“Well I mean, you just know what you’re doing. Plus making a spear like this… it was a good idea,” I mumbled, staring back at him. “How do you know what to do in all these different situations?” I was honestly curious. How did he get us out of the plane? Take care of my cut? How did he know what to do to make a spear?
He smiled more sweetly to me, averting his eyes for a moment before they returned to me. “I don’t know,” he laughed and shrugged. “It just came to me, I guess. As for the spear, I thought about how to do it last night when I was trying to sleep. It took a bit for me to fall asleep last night for some reason anyway,” he mumbled and looked down to the stick, getting back to work. It made me wonder if it wasn’t only my dream that contributed to him waking late.
“Just wasn’t tired?”
His hand holding the rock stayed even, and his eyes were focused as he answered. “Yeah, I don’t know why.”
After a few more minutes, and wondering more and more things, I couldn’t help myself. “What is this like for you?” I asked. I didn’t want to show it, but I was as curious about him as he was of me. I wanted to hide it for obvious reasons. But he asked questions constantly and had the guts to. Why couldn’t I?
“What, being stuck on an island?” His eyes flickered to mine as he continued working. Sweat started to pour heavily down his face, and it was agony to watch. I wanted to make him feel better. Yet, seeing him that way was very appealing. As a teacher, he always seemed secretive and perfect. He had to act and be a certain way with a teaching job, and that’s not counting how he always appeared closed off. So I liked this more than I should have.
I nodded. “I know it obviously sucks for you but… I don’t know,” I struggled. “How worried are you?”
He didn’t say anything for a second, and it slightly stung, seeing he might not want to tell me. However, I scolded myself immediately. Who am I to talk? I was constantly blocking him and refusing answers.
Finally, he sighed and looked up once more, this time letting his hand take a break. “At first, I was scared out of my mind. I wanted to panic but was afraid I would scare you, knowing you already went through so much. You said I am a survivor but… I haven’t felt like one yet.”
Some anger swam over me at hearing he thought I was too weak to handle the reality of it. However, even more, I was touched to see he did it to protect me. “You didn’t seem terrified. Really, you were the calmest person on that plane when it crashed. You didn’t struggle like everyone else, and you were smart to not scream…” I trailed off, my eyebrows shooting up at remembering something. “Wait, where did you get that knife?” I recalled that when he saved me, he did it by cutting my belt with a knife since it was jammed!
“Remember when I was stopped by security at the airport and they checked my camera bag?”
I nodded after sifting through my mind and pulling it out. So much has happened since the crash and yet we couldn’t have been here for more than a week. “Yeah, I remember you had a weird look on your face.”
Sighing, he turned more towards me. He extended his legs out to stretch, and his gaze came to rest on me. “Jill has a camera with a bag identical to mine. Before I left the house, I grabbed it, thinking it was my camera and my bag. When they stopped me at security and pointed out the bag, I realized I grabbed her bag and camera. Then I recalled how she always had this knife on her and that she must have left it in the bag. It was stupid of me, but I didn’t say anything when they told me I was free to go. They thought it was the camera that set the alarm off. I didn’t tell them that it was a knife because I knew they would have taken it. That knife is special to Jill. It was her grandfather’s, and he died in the war. So, I didn’t say anything to security. Risky, yes, but it meant a lot to her. Thank God, I had it,” he said and offered me a small smile.
I stared at him for a moment, the only sound between us being the distant waves and gentle breeze sifting over the trees. “You were able to get the knife out of the bag, take your buckle off, get to me only to see I am nearly dead, get air for me, and then cut my belt. You couldn’t have been that panicked if you managed all that including grabbing the knife. I don’t see it.”
His answer was instant and genuine. It made my heart beat a little faster. “The crash gave me one option. That was to fight to live. As for staying calm, well, that was really the only time I knew I had to be. I had a goal when we went down, and I had to stick to it. However, now that we are here… there is nothing. I always wondered what it would take to make an effort like this to live. So at first, I was very scared being out of my environment. It got better, though. I am seeing myself for the first time in a long time: a guy with messy hair and a less serious personality. I like how that is being forced back into my life.”
I knew this was rare for him. As far as I’m concerned, he never opened up like that to anyone from the expression on his face and the vibe I always got from him. Not to mention, I saw how uncomfortable he was.
I let his words sink in as best as I could before replying. “Your old self is being forced back into your life. You mean you were not always the mean and organized teacher? You didn’t like looking perfect?”
He scoffed and offered me honest eyes. He seemed amused, yet disgusted at the same time. “No, but things changed. When I proposed to Jill, I straightened myself up. I put a little effort into how I
looked. Combing my hair back and dressing nice included because that was going to be a very special moment. After she had accepted, she told me how much she loved that I ‘cleaned myself up’ and didn’t look like such a slob. It was embarrassing because I realized I must have been a wreck before. So, I stayed like that. Then it got out of control, and I let it. If one scratch reached my skin, I would suddenly become ashamed of myself.”
I gaped at him. “Why be ashamed? Over a scratch, that would disappear? What the hell?” I exclaimed, outraged to hear that for many reasons.
“After she repeatedly said I looked so much better than before, I stayed that way. I had to be good enough for her. After the hair and clothes came small things like that. Jill is so beautiful that one scratch put me farther below her. I… am not really sure why I let this happen to myself, but I did.” He shook his head and chuckled humorlessly. “So being here is a small relief. I don’t need to bother looking nice for her now that I don’t have the choice.”
I looked him over, not understanding Jill one bit. How did he need to change for her? Seeing him now, he was better now than before because he looked human. He looked and seemed free.
“So with that, once you did that for her, you became a jerk?”
He thought about it and finally shook his head. “No, not exactly a jerk. Just a sad and angry dude, I guess. I am not sure why I was that way, but I feel I am getting myself back somehow.”
I wanted to scream that Jill made him that way and beat his personality and spirits down. He was too blind by his love for that cruel bitch that he didn’t see it. She probably was a great girl for him, but she must have changed, and he thought it was right to go along with it. But I knew saying that would be pushing it. “So you’re getting yourself back now that you’re stranded on an island? I would have thought someone stranded, starving, and sick would go downhill even more.”
“I might be getting myself back, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to go home. I miss her,” he whispered and moved his eyes back to his work. He continued with the stick as I narrowed my gaze at him. I didn’t know how, but I knew he was lying. I wanted to tell him I saw it too. Saw he doesn’t miss her as much as he claimed. I was better for him than her, but that was one thing I didn’t want to tell him.
We talked a bit more here and there as the day progressed. It took a long time – much longer than it took to make the fire. I demanded him to take a break and have me do it. But oh no, he was the guy and was ‘almost done’ every time I asked. Almost done felt like forever until it actually happened.
Mr. Rush stopped and examined the final product. At the end of the stick, the wood was lighter since he carved the bark away. It kind of looked like a pencil. A really sharp one that took a ton of work to do and took its toll on him.
He took a deep breath, laying back in the grass as the sweat from him spilled over it. It was the first time his palms were free of the rock and the stick. He opened and closed his hands several times as he rested. After a minute, he caught his breath. Straightening back up, he stood and came to stand before me.
His eyes swept over me so fast, I barely saw him do it. Before I could press him on it, though, he might as well have read my mind. He quickly said, “So, I guess we can go fishing now, huh?”
I studied his face and saw him cover something behind his words. My stomach answered on its own with a growl to his words, making us both laugh. That was answer enough.
Chuckling, he said, “Take it easy. We still have a while to learn how to do this. It’s going to be hard trying to catch fish, but until we can, we will be okay. I’m sure we will come across more coconut trees. For water, well there is always our urine.”
I laughed and followed him to the beach. I walked into the water with him. He splashed the coolness over him as I did the same, sweat leaving and saltwater coating our skin. It was a wonderful feeling. Then came the hard part.
I insisted on trying first since his hands and arms couldn’t take much more for a little while. I felt stupid too. I didn’t know what I was doing or what I should do. We did agree though on how to start: stay as still as possible and wait for the fish. That’s what I did. Stood there, still and unmoving for the longest time while Mr. Rush sat in the shallow water a few yards away from me.
His lower body was hidden under the water. The rest of him regarded me with amusement towards my frustrated face as more time went by. My position wasn’t the best either. I was slightly hunched as I held the spear in both hands. I held the tip of it above the water, waiting for any fish to come into my sight. My back, which only slightly stung, started to get sore. I hadn’t taken off the belt around me for this. Like I said, I was less caring about the fact that I was only in my bra. But he seeing any more of my back would remind him and make him curious about my scars.
More time passed, and my mind kept going over his words from earlier. I was still shocked he would open up to me like that, especially since I still hadn’t done the same. Honestly, I was starting to want to.
Something snapped me out of my thoughts. I became excited when the slight sound of water splashing reached me. It dropped at seeing Mr. Rush stand and start walking towards me. My eyes leaving the water, I noticed that it was getting dark already, probably thanks to us waking late. I scowled at him. “You probably just scared the fish away.”
He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Right. I’m sure they were all over you, praying for that spear.”
I didn’t respond with any more than a sigh. I tried letting the spear go when I started handing it to him, but it was hard to uncurl my fingers. I managed to hand it to him and walk back up the shore, my back aching.
We made our way back through the trees and stopped in the tall grass. Collecting as many sticks as we could and dry nature, we piled it up where we had the fire last night. Making a fire was going to be nice now that our fishing attempt was over.
Mr. Rush sat down beside what would soon be a nice fire. Taking a deep breath, he took the flint with the same stone we used last night that worked. He pursed his lips as he started scratching the stones together fiercely.
Night drew in faster and so did the cold. I sat down beside him and watched him carefully. I just hoped that it would work again like it did for me, but it was tricky. He knew that yesterday and he did now. That might be why he put all his strength into hitting the rocks together now. His breath came faster with nervousness as he kept trying, as quickly as he could too. It made me feel bad because he was pushing himself more than he needed to. And recalling how I was able to light the thing last night… I spoke up and asked for it.
“Come on, let me try,” I said, reaching out so he would give me the rocks.
He shook his head. “No, I need to learn this.”
“Can’t you learn another time? It’s already getting dark and cold.”
I didn’t wait for an answer. I was shivering and didn’t like seeing him try so hard. I took the rocks from him, but before I struck them together, I paused. The flint and the other rock I held were damp. It made me eye Mr. Rush immediately. I had a good idea what it was but wouldn’t know until I could see.
I struck it over and over. Unlike him, I didn’t go crazy with it. It also didn’t take me thirty minutes to try and have nothing happen. It did take a bit, though, and it seemed harder than last night. Regardless, I smiled when I saw the spark after a few minutes. A few more after that ignited the fire. Putting more dry brush and small sticks on… it grew and radiated wonderful heat… and light.
I tilted both rocks forward, towards the light. A dark liquid was spread over the rocks, and it made my stomach twist. The second I saw that I turned my body towards Mr. Rush as I sat with my legs crossed. I reached over and took both his hands in mine, making him sigh. He ended up turning his body towards me as he sat the same way, knowing there was no avoiding it especially when he heard my reaction to feeling his bloody hands.
“What is wrong with you?!” I hissed in worry as I stared up into his eyes
. “You have been bleeding probably right from the start. You could have said so, and I would have helped. But no, of course not! You had to be the man.”
“I didn’t want you to worry. Besides, it isn’t that bad.” As he said that, I ran my fingers in each of his hands over his skin. The cuts were identical in both palms. They stretched across his hands, and I could tell, it had to hurt. My thumbs circled the cuts, hoping somehow it would heal him. I was looking down, tilting his hands towards the fire to get a better look when I glanced up and saw him an inch away from my face.
We were alone, stuck on an island and not going anywhere. Jill wasn’t here, and neither were the problems we left with our lives. We understood each other, and all I wanted was to understand his body. I wanted to kiss him right then but knew better. He wanted someone else, and I wasn’t going to throw myself at a guy who didn’t like me back.
I don’t remember feeling my hands stop massaging his cuts; I figured it was when his breath shocked me. After many days, I was surprised it didn’t smell bad. It only felt warm. I stared at him for a minute too long to be normal, but he didn’t look away either. His big brown eyes shined with the flickering of fire dancing with that color. I wanted to look away but couldn’t. I felt his large hands squeeze mine where they rested. The heat in that contact and in his eyes could have been as hot as the pits of hell compared to the sticks burning in front of us.
I somehow was able to get myself together and look down to find our hands grasped together. That feeling came back to me, the one of pain I knew I would feel when his hands slip away from mine. First, though, I forced myself to flip his hands back over, opening his hands in mine to reveal the cuts again. I leaned forward to examine his damaged palms closer. “You can wash them right now in the ocean or wait until dawn for the dew on the grass,” I said as neutrally as I could.