Island Rush

by Marien Dore

  It had to be more than three hours later with still no more progress from me. I can’t complain, though. Casey was on a good streak. He pulled two more slightly smaller fish in. However, I do admit that it was getting to me that I wasn’t getting anything. I missed numerous times and the result sometimes ended in him catching those fish. Don’t get me wrong, I was proud of him and grateful we had food more than anything. I was happy that this was actually working. But it was frustrating that I was the one standing out here, my back becoming sorer, and I wasn’t catching anything. Yet he lounges in the water, managing a damn stick, and waits for a little pull.

  I know I was overreacting to this, or rather my thoughts were. But I was uncomfortable, hurting, and frustrated. I figured from that point, though that I wouldn’t be catching any if I stayed this tense. I needed to relax some way. If I had Casey here, I would be able to relax. His simple presence makes me happy.

  I took deep breaths and tried to think of something that would make me relax. Of course, not a few seconds later came another fish. I internally sighed as I watched it slowly cross in front of me, the scales along its body shimmering from the sun. It was another big one, like the first one Casey caught.

  The seconds slowly ticked by and I took a deep breath again, ignoring my pain. I wasn’t sure where the image came from that popped in my head. Once it entered my brain, it stayed. It was Casey’s brown and beautiful eyes. The pools of chocolate and love calmed me significantly. I had concentrated on that image before I watched the fish and its movements, grasping the spear. I was relaxed, the pain was gone in that second, and as I threw the spear, I felt it. Felt and knew I got it.

  My eyes and feet moved forward, and when I looked down, I smiled to myself. The fish had the wood pierced through it, nearly all the way as it struggled under it. I quickly grabbed the handle, pushing further down on it. Its fight slowed, and it began to die.

  I took the spear away from it and picked up the dead fish, gripping the slimy fish tight so it didn’t slide out of my hand. With my catch in one hand, spear in another, I turned around and looked at Casey across the beach.

  “WOOO HOOO! Janice!” He cheered for me from where he sat in the water. I smiled as I put my spear in the air, yelling myself and cheering at how happy I was. I walked up the beach and laid it in the sand. I quickly went back out, though, knowing I wanted to catch more despite how sore my body was.

  As the day neared the end, I groaned with an even sorer back and shaky legs. Yes, the fact that we caught fish was all that was important. But really, though I was incredibly happy we caught all those fish, I felt... something else. Sexual frustration? Maybe?

  It made good sense. I was mad at the fact that I had to do this, suffer from the stones, sweat, and stand all day. I knew it was my own fault since Casey would have been fine with finding a new way to catch fish. It still sucked that I felt I had to do this and not be weak. It was getting to me though that he got to relax all damn day and sit in the cool water. The only work he did was pull in the fish. That was how I was frustrated.

  It turned into sexual frustration after I caught the first fish. It might have been because I haven’t seen him all day again. It was probably my own fault for imagining his warm eyes every time a fish swam by. Every time I pictured his beautiful eyes in mine and his face so loving and beautiful, I relaxed. It made me want him here with me just as much. With him not being here made my desire increase. He was usually always with me, excluding a few days of separate practice between us. It came full circle — I wanted him here, and he wasn’t because he was on the other side of the beach... making me frustrated.

  I headed back to shore, and I forced myself to walk straight and stretch my sore back. I gritted my teeth as I walked over the rocks and was surprised my feet weren’t bleeding. Reaching the shore, I looked down at the three fish I managed to catch throughout the whole day. That was quite good actually, and I was satisfied overall.

  I caught movement in my side vision, and I saw Casey walking towards me. His stick and string were in one hand. The man was holding something else in his other hand.

  Close enough, I saw him smile at me before looking down at the fish I caught. In his hand was a loop of very thick string. At the bottom of that loop hung his five catches of the day. They were tied to the thick piece of string through their mouths.

  I smiled up at him, still quite tense but I pushed that aside for now. “Love the necklace,” I said.

  He chuckled and laid the loop of fish to the sand. He then kneeled down and took my three fish, stringing those on with the other ones. “You did pretty well yourself. I think it would be best to cook these this time.”

  I nodded as he stood and smiled. He eyed me a little longer with a confused look. “You alright?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?” How was he able to tell?

  He shrugged. “You just seem a little on edge or something.”

  “Nope. I’m fine.”

  “Okay.” He let it go as he continued. “Anyway, we should eat all these tonight. Unless we have some way of keeping them cold and frozen, they will rot.”

  “Then what are we going to eat tomorrow? Are we doing this again tomorrow?” There was no telling what insane stunt I would do next if we did this tomorrow. I thought we caught enough fish for a week or so and wouldn’t need to do this for a while.

  “Yeah, but since we know that catching fish isn’t a big problem anymore, we can catch one once or twice every day. It won’t need to be an all-day activity like today.”

  “So that means we are coming back tomorrow, right?” I asked, becoming plain frustrated now.

  “Yeah. But I plan on doing it with the spear tomorrow. I can’t tell you how awful I felt, watching you stand all day. I bet you’re a little upset with me.”

  I smiled and sat in the sand, my legs too shaky to trust by now. I let out a loud sigh of relief, “Just a little, but I can’t blame you.”

  He smiled down at me, “Well, I am sorry. But tonight, we will eat like kings.”

  “Good because I am starving. How will we cook them?”

  “Over the fire is what I was thinking.”

  I smirked, “Yeah? Are they just going to float there in midair over the flames?”

  “You’ll see,” he said as he offered me his free hand.

  I groaned. “You sure like surprising me today.” I took his hand as he helped me to my feet. I grabbed the spear, and he grabbed the fish. We headed back up the beach and to camp.

  “For God’s sake! You can do everything! Make spears, a belt, and slingshots, now whatever this is! Yet you can’t hit a moving target! Is that accurate?” I asked as I came back from going to the bathroom out in the woods. I leave for one second and come back, and something new was just invented.

  He laughed and looked to me. “Yeah pretty much.” The fire blazed with the fish on the long string next to Casey where he sat. He held a long handle of a branch and at the end, there were smaller thin branches all twined together. It was like a net of twigs, similar to how a basket looks, all weaved together.

  I chuckled in disbelief at how amazing it was. “You are unbelievable.” After biting my lip, I carefully tried to sit down next to him, keeping my small whimper in. I did not want to draw attention to how awkward the process of sitting down was. All it was a sore back, but I couldn’t help but groan every time I got up and sat down.

  Carefully, I bent my knees and sat down, making it look natural. I didn’t moan, so he didn’t notice. I watched as he then spread the woven sticks out. It was about the size of my hand.

  He then turned away from me, grabbed the fish he gutted out, and laid it on the small bed of twigs at the end of the handle. Then, he grabbed another twig and placed it over the top of the fish, bending both ends so it tucked into the rest of the tight sticks, holding the fish in place.

  I could only stare at the bound fish. He held the handle out in front of him, the fish laying over the flames as he cooked it.
I looked up at him. “Have you been stranded on an island before?”

  He smiled, glancing at me before glancing back to watch the fire. “Now who is the charmer, huh?” he asked as he pulled the fish off the fire, checking it. He turned it to its side so the fish could burn on all sides as he put it back over the flames.

  A couple minutes later, he pulled it back off, and set it aside and carefully removed the stick that held it down against the bound twigs. It was steaming, and kind of fell apart over the sticks. Casey, being the smart guy he is, already figured that, though. He had slid a large, clean leaf under the twigs, and the fish fell onto the leaf, safe from the dirt.

  I watched as he tore the rest of the fish open in front of us, picking up the meat and eating it. He handed me a few pieces, which I quickly tossed back into my mouth. Only this time, it was better. It was warmer and less rotten tasting than last time. It was still not the best tasting fish in the world or anything close, but I could live with eating this.

  He then took the next fish, pressed it into the twigs before propping the one stick in to hold it on. Cooking another, he continued to do that for the rest of the fish we caught. With the last two fish we had to cook, he let me try. It was actually quite easy.

  The night ran on, consisting of cooking the fish, finding the meat, and eating. After the fifth fish, I could already feel my stomach feeling satisfied. We didn’t stop, though. We took full advantage of having as much food as we did.

  The fire crackling, the smoke gliding up to the shiny stars, the night was as cool as usual. We sat there for a few moments after finishing the last of the fish. The remains we couldn’t eat were laying on a separate leaf. Casey had got to his feet before he bent back over, picking up the leaf carefully. He started to carry it along the bank, and I watched as he threw the leaf with all the remains in the creek. He then bent down to wash his hands in the creek before he came back, going over to the suitcase that held our toiletries.

  He pulled out the toothbrush and the toothpaste we were both using. He looked over to me and observed me carefully before he walked over to me. Looking down, he offered me a soft smile. “Come on. We should wash our hands and brush our teeth. Well, at least that’s what I’m doing. I can still taste the fish in my mouth.”

  I watched him, my stomach jumping at the fact he wanted me to get up to go with him. I was sore, but I could still move. So I smiled and got to my feet, fighting off a whimper as he continued to watch me. I walked with him to the edge of the bank of the lake, watching him as he proceeded to brush his teeth.

  While he focused on that, I convinced myself that if I made a noise, he would hear me and be upset. That’s why I took my next steps with as much caution as I could. As I bent down over the bank and slid my hands into the fresh water, shivers grew gradually up over my skin and arms. The slime on my hands running away with the flow of water, it made me feel much better. Before I stood back up, I took a quick sip of water.

  My back hurting, I ignored it as I stood next to Casey as he was finishing up. Rinsing his mouth out, he then took a drink and thoroughly washed out the bristles of the toothbrush. He stood, handing it to me along with the toothpaste.

  I took it, brushing my teeth as well before rinsing as he had. While I was doing that, I felt his eyes burn into me, watching and observing me for some reason. After finishing up, I turned back to him and wasn’t able to take the silence.

  “What? Why are you staring at me?” I asked.

  He only smiled at me. “You can’t hide anything from me.”

  Well, great. He was probably upset I didn’t say anything on the beach. He would be mad that I put myself through that pain today of standing on those rocks the entire day. Was it that obvious I was sore?

  “What exactly are you referring to?” I asked.

  He walked closer to me, watching me an inch away from my face. Then, he moved to my back, his hand pressing hard into my lower back.

  “Ow!” I exclaimed. The hard touch sent me letting out a small whimper. I instantly turned around and out of his touch.

  His face was blank for a moment longer, watching me before I was able to make out some form of emotion. He looked at me with eyebrows of anger, mouth set in a line. “Why didn’t you tell me you hurt? All day out in the water! You stood all day sore while I sat in the shallow water. Do you want me to feel bad for you or get pissed off because I feel both,” he said. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  I groaned. “I was fed-up with going another day without food. I knew you felt the same. What, you want me to come back and say my feet hurt so we might as well give up and starve?”

  “No. But we could have figured out a better way other than you putting yourself through that all day!” He groaned and took my hand, pulling me back towards the fire. “Come on,” he said.

  “For what?”

  He didn’t answer but rather pulled me along and closer to the fire, his features, and mine brightening along with our surroundings. He pulled me under the shelter and next to the fire, his hands moving over my arms. He knelt before me and made me follow, helping me to my knees though I could handle it.

  “Casey, really, I’m just a little sore.”

  He sighed. “I know. It bothers me quite a bit that throughout the whole day — the whole day — you stood on sharp rocks, working your ass off, never sitting, and baking with sweat! While I was sitting in the water with sand under my ass waiting for a little tug on my stick.”

  Okay, I could now see why he felt the way he did. He felt guilty I went through that all day as he just ‘lounged around.’ Regardless, I was kneeling before him now, and he moved around me.

  “Lay down,” he said in a softer voice.

  “What? Why?”

  “It will make you feel better. Take your shirt off and lay on your stomach.”

  Still kneeling with him kneeling behind me, I slid my shirt up over my head. It made me immediately conscious again of my back, my scars, and that thankfully my hair was there to cover it. I lowered myself to my stomach as my body regained more chills, the night air closing in. But being under the shelter and next to the fire, I stayed fairly warm.

  My stomach touching the clothes that were already laid out where we sleep, I rested on the ground with the cheek against the fabric too. I watched the fire in my view and wondered what Casey was going to do.

  Then, I felt his hands lightly on my lower back, moving slowly in circles. As he did that, a thought came into my mind. It seemed a little funny while also kind of unreal at the same time.

  “Are you giving me a massage?”

  He chuckled. “Yes. Is that okay?” He pushed his hands harder into my bare back, working up and down.

  It had been years since I was given a massage. The last time, I was around ten or so. My dad would occasionally lay me on the couch, and lightly run his hands over my back. I remembered my father’s rough hands digging in, massaging me as Casey was now. I always loved the feel of it. Of course, dad did that years before I ever saw a twisted side to him.

  But now, laying on my back in the air, Casey’s hands were there to take care of me. His hands were soft while rough at the same time. I closed my eyes at the feeling, loving the sting it gave while also the pleasure.

  Chapter 51

  Silence followed quickly behind the crackling of the fire. His hands moved over my skin, making my sore body feel wonderful and relieved with each touch.

  “I’m sorry,” I finally said as he continued. I could feel the tension between us rise for some reason and the need to say something. Though I really was sorry.

  I heard him chuckle softly from above me. “No, it’s fine. I just worry and wish you wouldn’t have gone through this today.”

  “It’s not too bad,” I said, and it was the truth.

  His hands dug harder, making me moan as he squeezed and worked over my back. “I know it’s only a little sore, but maybe I just want to do this for you.”

  “Mmm,” I moaned and smiled, closing m
y eyes for a moment. “You’re so sweet.”

  His hands inched over my lower back, moving up my sides before his fingers brushed over my hair, pushing it out of his way. The hair leaving my back let the air touch and brush coolly over my skin. It was enough of a warning for me.

  My eyes flashed open as he revealed my back and I instantly jumped at that, needing some form of cover besides a bra to hide my scars. I turned and looked up at him as he was leaning over my back. His hands froze where they were after I moved and I quickly brushed my hair back over my back.

  I read his face instantly as he read mine, and a realization was met. It made me blush. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I know it's ridiculous—”

  “It’s very ridiculous. Your scars,” he scoffed as if I was being so foolish. “They are a part of you, a mark on how far you have come. Don’t feel ashamed of them. Never feel ashamed of your body. Never with me,” he added as his eyes moved down my body quickly before he found my eyes again.

  “But…” I trailed off, desperate to come up with some excuse to say, anything just so he wouldn’t see the clear markings of abuse.

  “This is the only thing between us. This is it, Janice. This is all that stands now. Let it go, let me in completely.”

  With some wash of clarity over me, it became obvious this time that this was the only thing holding us back. It was the only thing that symbolized a hold on my past. He didn’t know how I got the scars, but specifics like that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that I shouldn’t be afraid of him seeing.

  I lowered my head back to the clothing against the ground, resting my chin there as the rate of my breathing started increasing. His hands began to massage my lower back again, creeping up slowly to where my hair was. His fingers finally found my long cascading hair, collecting my hair in his hand and grasping all the strands together. He brushed it aside and over my shoulder, exposing my back to the night air, all except for my bra.