by Clare Revell
Lou sighed. She gripped the crutch and Jim’s arm and slowly hauled herself upright. “Ow.” Her eyes watered with the pain. “That hurts.”
“It will do for a bit, but it should ease. Here’s the other crutch.”
Lou took it and settled herself on them.
Jim shifted his hands to her waist. “Try walking,” he said. “I’ve got you. Put your weight on your good leg and move the crutches forward a tiny bit.”
“I can’t. It hurts.”
“Yes, you can. Once you take that first step, the rest will be easy.”
“I can’t I tell you. I’ll fall.”
“I’ve got you. Now instead of complaining, put some energy into getting your life in order again.”
Lou gritted her teeth and moved one of the crutches forward a bit and then the other. Then she pulled herself forwards. She took a couple more steps, her left leg not touching the ground at all.
Jim let go and she managed a few on her own. Jim helped her turn and she went back to the bed and sat down.
“My arms ache,” she complained.
“Well done, you. Told you, you could do it.”
“Only did it to shut you up,” Lou replied pulling a face.
Jim grinned at her. “Worked though, didn’t it. What do you want to do now?”
“Sleep. I’m tired.”
“OK.” Jim left her alone.
Over the course of the next two days, Lou practiced using the crutches and putting the splints on herself. She wasn’t sleeping well—a combination of the pain and lack of exercise. She kept herself restricted to the cabin and although part of her longed for company, part of her wanted to push the others away. Like she’d just done with Staci.
Lou could hear them above
“She told me to go away.”
“She’s tired and cranky. Maybe she’s also tired of being watched all the time.”
“I only wanted to talk.”
“So talk to me, kiddo. Tell you what, get a game out and set up. So long as I get some sleep this afty.”
Boxes rattles and chairs scrapped on the floor. Staci’s voice came again. “Is Lou really OK?”
“She’s not out of the woods yet. Her leg still hasn’t healed, but we should be able to get her to a doctor soon.”
“How long?”
“Inside of a week hopefully,” Jim said.
Lou heard the dice roll across the board.
“I hate it when that happens. Pay a ten pound fine or take a chance. Hmm, take a chance I think. No, I don’t believe it.”
Tears rolled down Lou’s face as she listened to them having fun without her. Her leg hurt. She felt alone and fed up. No, it was more than fed up. More like totally hacked off. It was as if she was inside a black hole. She had this ache inside her. Maybe ache wasn’t the right word either. More like a weight perhaps. A heavy weight that was dragging her down. There was no point in getting up—there was nowhere to go. She couldn’t manage the steps anyway. They should have left her to the shark. If she were dead, then the problem would be solved.
She didn’t want to go home. Mum would only shout at her anyway. Wrongly blame her for encouraging Staci to run away. Her leg would be her own fault too—she encouraged the shark by splashing the water, so she should put up with it. She had just wanted to help Jim and Staci find their parents.
Now she wished she’d never left home. She wanted none of this to have happened. She would be permanently crippled—and only a miracle would save her leg now, and they didn’t happen.
Pain shot through her and she winced. She turned over slightly, but that just made it worse. Suddenly her leg muscles cramped and she cried out in pain.
Jim appeared in the doorway. “Lou?”
“Cramp,” she gasped.
Jim stretched her foot and massaged her leg gently, watching her face. “Is that better?”
Lou nodded and the spasm eased. “Thank you.”
“If you exercise then it won’t happen so often. You also need to increase your salt intake. We’re playing a game. Coming?”
“I can’t manage the steps.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Can’t.”
Jim shook his head. “You haven’t tried. But if you want to stay here and feel sorry for yourself…”
“No. I’ll come. It may take a while but I’ll come. One condition though. I want to be the dog.”
“It’s on the board,” Staci said through the intercom.
Lou sat up and swung her legs off the bed. “So how are we going to do the steps, then?”
“I’ve put railings up on both sides. You can pull yourself up one step at a time. One of us will take your crutches. Just try.”
“OK,” Lou nodded. She grabbed both crutches and pulled herself upright. Leaning on her good leg she put both crutches forward and swung herself into them. She grunted with the effort. Slowly, she made her way down the corridor to the steps.
Looking at Jim she said, “Now what?”
“Ever hopped upstairs?”
“I live in a flat remember? A ground floor flat.”
“At school then?”
“Yeah. Got into trouble for it though.”
“Give me the crutches, hold onto the railings and hop up one step at a time.”
Lou took the stairs one step at a time and got to the top. Panting with effort, she stood for a moment.
Staci put a stool next to them, and Lou gratefully sat down. “I need to rest before I do the next lot,” she said. “The galley’s bigger than I remember.”
“It’s almost twelve thirty,” Staci said. “Lunch, anyone?”
After lunch, Lou was rested enough to attempt the steps to the bridge the same way as before. “This is bigger, too,” she said. Lou made her way over to the chart table. “So where are we?”
Jim showed her. “Here.”
“Are we still heading for the Philippines?”
“Of course. I reckon another week, and we’ll be there.” Jim looked exhausted.
“Shall I sail for a bit while you get some sleep, Jim?”
“Are you sure you are up to it? It’s my shift until five.”
“I’ll do it. You both have some time off. I can always shout if I need you. We’ll leave the board set up and play later.”
Lou settled herself at the helm and rested her crutches against the console. “Go before I change my mind.” She waited until they had gone before studying the chart closely. She disengaged the autopilot and changing course she increased speed. She deftly took Avon on manual and in the five hours that she had the bridge to herself, took them almost fifty miles off course. She then slowed, resumed the original heading and engaged the autopilot.
Jim came up looking much better. “Hi,” he said. “Sorry I overslept.”
“You looked like you needed it. Do you want me to stand watch tonight?”
“No. This is your first proper day out of bed.”
“I’m not tired. I’ve spent the past month in bed. I’ll do tonight. At least until two.”
“OK. You rest for a bit though.”
“If I must. Can you give me a hand down the steps?”
Lou went below with Jim’s help. She showered, which was interesting trying to keep her left leg out of the water. She immediately felt better. There is something therapeutic about clean hair. She changed and managed to get back up to the bridge, with Staci taking the crutches. “We need to come up with a way to get the crutches up and down the steps without someone carrying them,” Lou said.
“Yeah,” Jim said distractedly, leaning over the chart.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing important.”
That night, once the others were in bed and she had the bridge to herself, Lou once again changed course and increased speed.
Jim suddenly appeared behind her. “What are you doing?” he asked looking at the course heading.
“Hi, Jim.”
“Don’t you ‘hi, Jim’ me. Why have you changed course
?” he asked again. Jim changed course back again and re-engaged the autopilot. “We’re headed for the Philippines to find my parents. Same plan we’ve always had.”
“I’ve spent the past few days rethinking. I don’t want to go home.”
“You aren’t thinking clearly. You nearly died.”
Lou glared at him. “On the contrary, I’m thinking more clearly now than I have for ages.”
“You’re tired, you’ve been really ill. I’m not surprised if you’re fed up and confused. Just take one day at a time. No one expects anymore of you. We’ll talk in the morning.”
~*~
In the morning, Lou hobbled up the steps. At the top, Staci gave Lou her crutches and they joined Jim at the table.
He had laid breakfast and was just pouring the tea. “Morning, all,” he said. “How did you sleep?”
“In bed with my eyes shut,” Staci answered. “Thanks for doing this.” She took some toast and buttered it.
Jim grinned. “That’s OK. What about you Lou, sleep OK?”
“What’s sleep? My leg hurts too much for sleep. You said we’d talk and make a decision this morning.”
“Decide what?” Staci asked with her mouth full.
“Jim wants to go home. I don’t. You get the casting vote.”
Jim put his cup down. “Now wait a minute. I never said I wanted to go home. I am going to the Philippines to find my parents. That’s where they are. I’ll do that while you’re checked over by a doctor. We also need the radio fixed.”
“I don’t need a doctor. I’m fine.”
“You’re anything but fine.”
Deefer barked as their voices got louder and angrier.
Lou put a hand on his head.
Staci sighed. “Can you two stop it? This isn’t a discussion, it’s a fight.”
Lou lowered her voice. “Jim. I’m fine. I don’t need a doctor.”
Staci started clearing the table.
Jim started the dishes, with more vehemence than was necessary. “What do you say, Staci?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I’m not ready to go home yet, but having said that, you should see a doctor, Lou.”
“Just forget the doctor, will you? Do you want to go home?”
“No.”
“Jim?”
“No, but I need to find—”
“That’s settled then. Three votes for not going home. Jim, can you take my crutches while I go up to the bridge? I have something to show you.”
She moved to the steps and Jim took her crutches. She pulled herself up, one step at a time. Then taking her crutches back, she limped to the chart table. She pointed to the map. “Here,” she said.
Jim looked at it. “Line islands?” he said.
“Kiribati, a whole chain of islands.”
“It’s three weeks away. We’ve wasted enough time as it is.”
“Hear me out. You can drop me off there. We can get the radio fixed. Replace the phone. You and Staci can then go and find your parents. It’s only another week from there to the Philippines, at the most.”
Jim looked at her. “Sorry?” he asked, thinking he must have misheard her.
“I’m never going back, Jim.”
“Don’t be silly. You can’t do that.”
Lou looked seriously at him. “I have burnt too many bridges, Jim. I can’t go back.”
“Why not?”
Lou looked out of the window. “I almost died. Maybe I should have done. You’ll be better off without me.”
“Now you are being ridiculous.”
“I have made my decision. If you leave Kiribati you do so without me.”
Jim stormed out on to the deck.
Staci went up to the bridge. “What did you say to him, Lou?” she demanded.
“The truth. That I’m not going home. Ever.”
Staci looked at her. “Why not?”
“It’s my choice. I’m better off on my own. We’re changing course to Kiribati. Deefer and I get off there. You two can go on from there. Find your parents and then go home.”
“What’s wrong with you? You can’t just go off on your own. Whatever happened to ‘you go, we go’?”
“It went. It’s not open for discussion.”
~*~
Jim sat on the deck and gazed out at the Pacific Ocean. He was furious, but a slanging match with Lou wouldn’t solve anything. The wind blew in his face and ruffled his hair. It had got rather long again and he had meant to ask Lou to cut it for him. Maybe I should ask Staci, just in case Lou cuts my throat instead. Then again, she was far more likely to cut her own throat than his. Lou and Staci were on the bridge and it looked as if they were arguing. He sighed. Lou needed help; there was no doubt about that. Maybe he should just give in and do what she wanted.
God, what do I do? Even if Mum and Dad are still alive, it’ll be too late. It’s been months. I should never have started this. I can’t see it through. How do I put this right? He paused. OK, You’re right. I just have to trust in You. Don’t I? He climbed the bridge ladder and opened the door.
The conversation stopped abruptly.
“Let me see that chart,” he said. He leaned across it and made some rough notes on the notepad. “Staci, go and check the food will you? I need to know how many days’ worth we have left.”
“Why?”
“Just do it, kiddo.”
“Aye, aye, Cap’n.” Staci gave a mock salute and headed down the stairs.
Lou limped across to him. “What are you doing?”
“Weighing up my options, Lou. Trying to make the right decision for everyone.”
From the galley, the cupboard doors banged and then it went quiet.
“Staci?” Jim called. “You OK?”
“Back in a sec,” came the reply.
Jim looked at Lou. “If we have enough food and fuel to last and if Staci doesn’t mind, we’ll change course.”
“Thank you.”
“But I won’t abandon you.”
“You don’t have a choice. You don’t mind if we check the fuel together.”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“I don’t trust anyone.”
“Be my guest.”
Together they went below to the storage bulkheads by the cabins.
Staci was just crawling out of one of them.
“What are you doing, kiddo?” Jim asked.
“Secret food supply,” Staci replied.
“I’d forgotten about that,” Lou said.
“I’m missing something. Secret food supply?”
“Emergency, then,” Staci explained. “How else do you think we made the food last so long. Lou and I stockpiled it every chance we got.”
Jim checked the other bulkhead and showed Lou the fuel. “Is there enough?” she asked.
“Should be. We’ll need to use the sails as much as we can. It’s also going to get cold.”
“I packed my jumpers,” Lou told him.
“How does the food look?”
“Eight weeks if we are careful.”
Jim looked at his sister. “How do you fancy Kiribati, Stace?”
“Never heard of it. Where is it?”
“Oceania. A group of islands in the South Pacific. At least three weeks away.”
“Gives me three weeks to change Lou’s mind, then.”
“You won’t. Deefer and I will be fine on our own.” She turned and headed back towards the steps. “We need to figure out a way to get the crutches up and down somehow,” she said. “You can’t keep following me.”
“I’ll make more,” Jim said. “One pair for each deck.”
“That’d be good. Then I get my independence and you guys get your lives back.”
She paused by the steps and Jim took the crutches. “After you,” she said.
Jim went first and Lou hopped up after him. In the galley, she took some more painkillers and then went up the next flight of steps.
On the bridge, Jim gave her the crutches and the
y went to the chart table.
Lou showed him the course she’d worked out and Jim checked her figures.
“Very good,” he said. “You’ve learnt well.”
“I had a good teacher.”
Jim punched in the new course heading and brought Avon about. “You weren’t serious though, were you? About us leaving you there?”
“I’ve never been more serious. I’m just a waste of space. You’re better off without me.”
“You are not a waste of space. We need you.”
“You managed perfectly well without me once. You’ll do so again. Now about this rota. Are we going back to the original one or do you want to change it to give Staci a longer shift?”
“Don’t mind. It’s your shift now, anyway. Work one out and we’ll look at it later. I’m off to do lunch. Well, start it, anyway.”
~*~
Lou sat at the helm and opened the notebook. She spent a frustrating hour or so playing with the rota. She came up with two very different ones. The first was far too complicated. And the second would only work if Staci did the night shift. There was no way she could see Jim agreeing to that. Her gaze fell on the chart. She looked at Kiribati and realized that it straddled the International Date Line. Presumably, that meant that the whole country was ahead of them.
Deefer flopped down by her feet and went to sleep.
Lou looked at the rotas again. The original one was the best. So that’s what she would suggest.
Jim came in. “Hi. Lunch is ready.”
“Already?”
“Any joy with the shift rota?”
“No. Figured we stick to the original one.”
Jim nodded and they went down to the galley.
“I can tell Jim cooked lunch,” Staci said looking at it.
“What gives it away?” Jim asked.
“Beans on toast isn’t exactly cordon bleu.”
“It took hours of preparation,” Jim protested. “Opening tins is jolly hard work.”
“You wait,” Staci told him.
“I’m still waiting from the last time. You said that back in June. It’s now October.”
“Your time will come. Who’s doing the next shift?”
“You are, Stace. We are going back to the original rota.”
“That’s fine.”
They finished lunch and Staci went up to the bridge.