by Marien Dore
When I reached the top, I saw him working. There was sweat dripping from him and with good reason. He was working harder than he needed to, cutting the bamboo then cutting the ends off. He then threw it into the water.
“Casey!” I shouted.
He turned towards me and his eyes widened. “What are you doing? You should be getting what I’m sending down.”
Clenching my teeth, I walked over to him, grabbed his arm, and towed him the few feet it took to the edge. The whole lake with scattered bamboo was visible as was the creek taking it out to the ocean. The large stack of the ones I collected were visible too.
“I don’t think you understand the meaning of ‘slowly’ because that took me under half an hour! Plus, there was a ton that I wasn’t able to grab because there were so many.”
I watched surprise cross his face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was sending them down that fast and not giving you enough time.”
“I don’t even know how either. You have a lot of work to cut through it and get it down. Then cut the tops off and throw them in. You must be a muscle machine.”
He groaned and smiled, “I want to say sorry again but I know I already reached my limit for the day,” he said, referring to the incident that happened earlier.
“Look, it’s my own fault for jumping on you like that all day. I’ve been complaining indirectly in a way.”
He shrugged, not bothered. Smirking, he said, “Well, we did have sex today. That’s something worth counting. You can’t take me down today. I feel so good!” He pressed closer to me.
I smiled, “You look so good.”
“That’s because I’m sweaty. Sweaty... and very dirty.”
I chuckled, wrapping my arms around him. “Mr. Rush is being dirty today,” I repeated from earlier.
“Well, Miss. Reeves knows how to make a man feel dirty.” He lightly kissed me before he broke away. He grabbed the knife he was using. He took my hand with his free one and began to lead me back, going the long way down the hill gradually.
He stopped though and went off into the woods for a moment. I stood, watching him go a few feet deeper into the trees. “What are you doing?”
“I’m grabbing a few vines for the bed,” he said. I watched him yank a vine with his weight down until it snapped. He wrapped it around his arm before finding a few more.
“Ooh. You are a dirty boy. Someone anxious to tie his girl to the bed? I see how you are,” I said, holding back a chuckle. I knew he was getting the vines to tie it all together. But when he said that, it was like he was setting himself up. I smirked as his eyes found mine a couple yards away.
He shook his head. “Keep it up, Janice. Keep it up, I dare you,” he said in a high voice, making me laugh. When he came back with all the vines we needed, he then handed me the knife as we headed to the shelter.
It was turning out to be one long day. Since the shelter still stunk a bit, Casey, and I figured out what the size the bed should be as we sat next to where the stack of bamboo was. We began by measuring out the sides evenly. Then, we tied together a large bed frame. We both knew though that with both of us on it, it might not hold. So, that’s when Casey got creative.
With him sitting across from me, we both were holding the potential frame in our laps. I watched as he began to work with his knife once more. The bamboo was hollow, so I watched him in amazement as he carved the bamboo close to the edges. He cut a dip in it so the other branch would fit and be held firmly. The two horizontal branches snapped into the two vertical ends.
I stared at him then looked down in my lap where the branches came together. I didn’t bother asking how he thought of this; he was just creative, perfect, and smart, end of story.
I observed him as he focused his eyes down at the bed frame. It was nearly finished. He turned around and grabbed a vine, cutting a long strand off and tossing it over to me. I proceeded to tie it off as best as I could. I wrapped the vine around the two ends where the horizontal met the vertical. I pulled tight, making sure it was as secure as it could be before tying it.
The sweat dripping off the end of my nose and onto my hand as I worked to tie it, I had the urge to roll the couple feet it would take into the creek. It was ashamed that after a rare bath, I couldn’t stay clean or at least keep from sweating.
After I tied it together, I went to the other side and tied those two ends together from what was left of the vine piece he gave me. We both seemed to finish at the same time when I saw his eyes meet mine. He shifted the frame off him before he got to his knees and stood, resting the frame in the grass. Standing, he stretched and groaned since we have been sitting in the same position for a while now.
He sighed as he walked over to where I was sitting with my legs crossed, frame in my lap. I looked up to him as he blocked out the sun. He offered his hand, and I moved the bamboo frame off me, grabbing his warm and sweaty fingers and got up next to him.
“What now?” I asked.
He lifted his hand to his face, wiping away the sweat that was dripping down. His hair was brushed back and out of his face as we were working. It was hotter than most days. “Now,” he sighed, obviously hating this project. “With each branch, we carve holes on both sides on the end. Then we tie them together by putting the vine through them.”
“So just slide the vine through the holes, then tie them together?”
When he nodded, we were at it. It wasn’t hard listening to him. This bed wasn’t my idea, and it was too hot for my liking. That’s why I quickly took a few steps over and bent down over the bank, cupping my hands together as I stuck my hands in the cool creek. Bringing my hands back up, I splashed the water over my face and chest and stomach. A shirt in this weather was crazy, so I was back to wearing just my bra for today. The cold water trickled down my body, my face washed of the sweat. I plunged my hands back in the water, this time bending my head down more. Carefully, I raised my cupped hands full of water up to my lips and drank.
I stood back up and saw he had done the same. His hair was damp as he ran his hands back through it, brushing his hair behind his ears. He looked somewhat better but still exhausted and hot. And there was still a lot of daylight left. A lot of work left to be done.
It was evening by the time we finished the bed. And it looked awesome.
The bed frame wasn’t exactly a frame anymore. I stood next to him, observing our final product. It was like a big square of bamboo tied together in a flat mat. But this was no mat. This was very secure with each piece fitting into another. Plus, vines were wrapped all over it, keeping it secure and tight. Not to mention, we threaded the vines though it too so there was no chance of this bed falling apart.
Casey, standing in a professional stance, took my hand and led me closer to the bed. He let my hand go as he knelt down next to it. Leaning forward, he pressed his two palms on the bamboo bed, putting his weight into it as it kept him propped up. He pushed his hands, testing different parts of it before he gave me a crooked smile.
The bed wasn’t held up, so it was flat it the grass. So it was easy for Casey to roll over with his whole body, moving onto it until he was resting on his back. I chuckled as I watched his expression change.
“Um... ouch,” he said, wincing.
“Yeah. You’re pretty dumb for a teacher at times. We will be putting a few layers of leaves on it then clothes to use it as a mattress.” Of course, the bamboo was hard and not smooth. Which was what Casey just felt as he rolled over it to test it. I swear, he was such a dork at times, such a charming man other times.
He smiled up at me, challenging me in that smirk. He propped himself up of his elbows as he was laying on his back, his hand patting the space next to him. The space in which he wanted me to lay next to him. I rolled my eyes, smiling as I bent down and carefully climbed on it.
I shifted myself until I was laying against him, his arm holding me to him as we laid there, looking up at the trees and bright sky. I started to shift more though, seeing if it was st
rong enough for the both of us. It didn’t bend or dip with our weight so I rested back against him, sighing.
“I don’t think we will be able to break the bed,” I said.
“Damn it,” he said in a hiss of mock anger.
“We did a good job,” I concluded. Or rather he did a good job. It was his plan we followed.
“We did. Do you think it will fit under the shelter? I know we checked if we had enough room but I don’t think it was quite accurate.”
I thought about it. “I guess we’ll have to see.” Then, another thought crossed my mind. I didn’t really want to ask. It felt like I was asking for too much, but I did anyway, knowing he would understand. “Um, are we going to be setting this on something like logs? Will it be far enough off the ground?”
“Yep. I figure we can just rest it on more bamboo. We can build it up, carve it so it stays into place…. It should not be hard at all.”
“Good,” I said as we both got up, ready to finish the job. It wasn’t hard like he said, especially when I suggested that we just use the leftover logs and braches we collected for the shelter. There was a lot left after all.
We laid down the logs inside the shelter after cutting some, both vertically and horizontally. We shaped it so it was just a little smaller than the actual bed we made for it. Then, like the frame, we cut the pieces so they would fit together. We stacked them so it would raise the bed about a foot in the air, which was nice. Then, we used the vines to help support where the wood snapped into place.
By the time that was finished, it was clear that the bed would take up nearly all the space but there was still some room. Casey took care of the rest, dragging the bamboo bed back and setting it on the logs. While Casey was finishing that – tying the mat down so it wouldn’t shift over the logs – I decided it would be wise to start getting some massive leaves together for the mattress. The whole point of this was because we wanted to be comfortable.
As he went to work finishing the bed up, my eyes scanned over the bags that were piled in the grass. I walked over to them, digging through the luggage until I found the first-aid kit. When Casey saw what I was grabbing, he stopped securing the bed and raised an eyebrow at me, questioning.
“You’ll see,” was all I said with a sly smile.
Of course, he was wondering what a first-aid kit had to do with collecting leaves for the bed, but I was a step further. How would those leaves stay secured on top of the bed? I would sew them together so we had a couples layers of leaves to support our backs at night.
I gave myself space after I finished collecting a few dozen leaves. Taking the same string and needle out that I used on Casey’s long cut, I began my part in sewing one layer of leaves together until it looked like a big green quilt. After a few more of those, I was finished and found that we were racing the sun to finish.
Carrying them back and around to our shelter, I saw Casey just finishing up as well with his job. He smiled brightly at me before he got to his feet, standing back and looking at our final product. I smiled, relieved that we were finally finished. I carefully set the layers of leaves aside as I moved beside him. With the dying light, we both took in the sight of our bed.
Carefully looking, I saw that the edges of the bed were all under the cover of our wall/roof, which was good. Close to it were the ashes from the fires so we could still stay close and warm. It was perfect.
I moved to the edge of the bed, resting both hands on the bamboo when I bent down. I tried to put pressure on it but it didn’t bend. When I tried to shift it or slide it, it didn’t budge unless you tried hard to intentionally remove it.
I smiled, grabbing the thick layers of leaves and flung it onto the bamboo, grabbing the ends and spreading them out evenly. It fit the bed nicely, covering most of it in silky and thick green leaves. Sure, some of the leaves would break since we will be sleeping and shifting over them, but it didn’t matter because there were so many I sewed together. We still would have a soft support under us.
Proceeding with collecting the clothes we used before to sleep on, we spread the clothes and soft fabric evenly out and all across the bed, moving back and seeing the end product.
However, once we realized we were finished, other things became more important, more apparent as we stood there. One was that we still had dinner to make and that dinner would be made at the beach. We couldn’t have a fire here after since the damp brush wrecked that option. My growling stomach reminded us of that… as did the shivers that I saw we already had but didn’t bother to notice yet. Night was coming and the cool weather with it.
“We better get to that fire. We should take some clothes with us to cover up with since it will be cooler at the beach. Also, grab whatever you can that might help with the fire. Anything dry that will burn will help because it will still be harder trying to start a fire after it rained, even on the beach. Plus, there will be more of a breeze by the ocean. I’ll grab the snake,” I said, shrugging. It’s not like we had many other options.
He bit his lip and smiled. “Yes ma’am.”
I scoffed, and we collected our things, walking down the bank and heading to the beach. We followed the blackening creek as it glittered with the darkness invading the sky.
It had been one long day and now it was dark. We still had a fire to make, and that was sure to be a challenge this time. We also had dinner to make and eat, which would be interesting since we were feasting on snake tonight.
I sighed as we walked, pressing into his side as we moved, becoming colder. All I wanted then was to lay and relax in our bed. Screw the fire. Casey could keep me close and warm in our new bed and dinner didn’t seem worth it. At least we could suffer from the cold together on the beach. That’s all the counted.
Chapter 56
“Jesus, it’s cold. Hurry up and light it.”
I scoffed and looked up from where I was bent over the branches and ready to light it. “Um, I think something else added to the fire would help before I light it,” I said, gesturing to the book neither of us was interested in reading and the dirty magazines laying in the sand.
He acted as if it nearly ripped his heart out to hand me the magazines, and I laughed as he spoke, “You’re killing off my manhood. Here take it. Burn it before I begin to cry.”
“‘Killing off my manhood?’”
He broke, chuckling, “I don’t know, but I’m freezing and being by the ocean isn’t helping.”
Taking one of the magazines, I tore it down the middle and stuffed a few pages between the branches. After that, I tore out a few pages from the big book and figured that was enough to get the fire started in the chilly and breezy weather.
It was dark now, but the moon was shining and nearly full of its circle in the sky. The stars were visible and bright, millions spread out on the black canvas of the world. The waves were distinct, crashing several yards away since we were built the fire a few feet outside of the cover of trees. We were right in thinking the sand would be dry, and it helped that our brush was dry too. The only thing that made this difficult was that we were, in fact, trying to make a fire on the open beach.
I hit the stones together maybe a dozen times. Usually with how well we were getting, we would have seen a spark at least. Nothing yet, though. With a groan, I kept trying several more times again. Still nothing. As the breeze moved in, I shifted with the hope that my body would block out the wind. With the breeze now blocked by my back, I tried again. With a hard strike, I saw that once the rocks made contact, this time, a spark produced finally.
“Alright, come on,” I muttered under my breath as I tried with more confidence now. Finally, I managed to get a spark strong enough. The orange speck landed on one of the ripped out pages of the book and spread. Creating more sparks and watching them catch on the edges of the paper, the whole thing burned. Once I knew the wind couldn’t kill it, this time, I smiled and set the flint down, moving to where Casey sat in the sand.
I was surprised to find him shiverin
g, but I knew I shouldn’t be. I wasn’t cold to the point of shaking yet because I worked up a sweat trying to start the fire. But after a minute, I would be in Casey’s condition. That’s why we ended up changing into warmer clothes before we came. Casey wore jeans and a dressy shirt, and I wore a thicker tee-shirt with men’s khakis to keep warm. We both knew that these wouldn’t be enough so we also brought a stack of clothes to cover ourselves with.
His shoulders were draped with a big shirt and pants, the pant legs tied to each of his arms as he began to put a part of the dead snake on the little ‘cooker’ he made. He twined the remains around the twigs over the small circle of twigs on the long stick. The rest of the snake was on the leaf beside him.
I sat down next to him, pushing into his side to hopefully stop the chills from coming to me. I watched as he held the snake over the flames.
He turned, looking down at me. Holding the stick over the fire with one hand, he grabbed something from behind him, moving it over me. With the article of clothing he brought forward, he wrapped it around my back, tucking it so it would stay under my arms. He grabbed another, wrapping it around my arms before he grabbed a longer piece of clothing and draped it over our laps so it covered our feet in the sand.
“Better?”
I nodded and offered him a grateful smile. “Thank you,” I said. I rested my head against his shoulder, his body heat still reaching my cheek and warming me through the fabric. We watched silently as the snake became engulfed by the flames.
It was nice, relaxing despite the cool air. With our backs to the ocean, to the breeze, I felt it. I really felt it now. Felt this was home. Sure, Casey would always be my home no matter where we are. But the island itself... the atmosphere was continuously shifting after we got here. Now that we were settled and living again, it was nice, warm, and welcoming.