by Jo Watson
“Damien! This is serious. What the hell are we going to do?” I tried to think back to all those survivor-style TV shows I’d watched, where someone gets dumped in the wild and has to survive for a week. But all I could think about was the guy who had to drink his own urine and eat raw buffalo meat. “Do you have matches?”
“No.”
“Crap! We could have sent off smoke signals.” I paced up and down the sand a few times. “Right…this is what we need to do. We need to gather rocks and make a giant SOS sign on the beach and—”
“Lilly, chill. That won’t be necessary.”
“Chill?” Damien’s relaxed attitude was seriously starting to piss me off. “Do you realize that if no one finds us, we might be stuck here for the rest of our lives? We’ll have to fend for ourselves and live off the land like those feral people who are raised by wolves. You’ll have to catch fish with sharpened sticks and nets made from jungle vines like they do in Survivor. Rub stones together to make fire. I bet you can’t do that.”
“I’ve never tried,” Damien said, still looking decidedly amused.
“Well, don’t you dare expect me to weave us clothes from spiderwebs and moss. And what about shelter? Think you can whip us up a little bamboo house strong enough to stand up to a tropical storm, huh? And you’ll definitely grow a big, filthy beard and then we’ll probably turn on each other, too, like in Lord of the Flies. Oh God, I don’t want to drink my own wee!”
Damien burst out laughing. “I think you watch too much reality TV. Besides, you heard the guy; boats come past here all the time. We’ll just flag one down and be on our way again in no time.”
“Just flag one down?”
“Sure.”
“And what about food? We might starve in the interim.”
Damien patted his backpack. “I have some snacks.”
“Water? Or shall we dehydrate in the sun while we wait to be rescued?”
“I have a bottle, too.”
He was still smiling at me. “Stop smiling, Damien. This isn’t funny. At all!”
“Fine.” Damien forced his face into a serious grimace.
I slumped down on the sand and took my head in my hands. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Of all the bad, crappy, crazy things that could possibly happen to someone, this had to be right up there on a list somewhere just under “being digested alive…slowly.” I felt Damien sit down next to me and put an arm around my shoulders.
“Don’t panic, I bet a boat will come past in an hour or so.” Even though the tone of his voice was gentle, it did absolutely nothing to allay the terror that had taken up residence inside me.
“Lilly, it’s going to be okay.” He pulled me toward him. The close proximity did seem to take the edge off my terror, especially when his hand began rubbing my back in a very reassuring way.
“Besides, for all you know, there’s a village on the other side of the jungle. We could go and look?” Damien added, trying to sound upbeat.
“I’m not moving,” I said. I was going to sit there and watch those waters for any sign of a passing ship or boat or canoe or bloody rubber dinghy. Any kind of floatation device would suffice. I would even take a buoyant log at this stage and fashion oars out of coconut shells if necessary. Anything to get us safely off this rock.
“I’ll go and look.” With a swoosh he was up again, as if this didn’t faze him in the slightest. In fact, it looked like he was actually enjoying himself. He probably was with his happy-go-lucky-adventure vibe.
“Wait. You can’t leave me here.”
“You’ll be fine.” And with that he disappeared into the jungle like a man on a mission. If I wasn’t so damn panicked, I might have found it vaguely attractive.
“There might be large poisonous snakes in there,” I screamed after him, only to hear a laugh. It wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for. “And I forgot to bring the antivenom.”
I sat on the beach not daring to take my eyes off the water. I didn’t even move them as I reached into my shopping bags and riffled for a sarong I could drape over my head. The sun was relentless and the heat almost unbearable. But as the time passed, I started to worry. Damien still hadn’t come back and I was starting to feel that familiar panic again.
I stared up at the jungle; it looked like the kind of place that if you ventured into, you might emerge with an extremity missing and a deadly insect bite between your eyes. It spread out in all directions, and I wondered how deep it went. On top of my own feelings of worry, I also started to worry about Damien’s safety. I hoped nothing bad had happened to him. And then I was overwhelmed by an irrational compulsion to go and find him.
I abandoned my bags on the beach and cursed the fact that, like a magpie, I’d been so tempted to buy all the pretty, shiny things. And now I was just lugging them around with me. I walked in Damien’s footprints all the way to the edge of the leafy darkness. I took a deep breath and stepped inside. I was no tracker, but it was easy to follow Damien’s path. The squashed plants and bent branches were a dead giveaway.
I followed the trail for only a few minutes before seeing a clearing ahead and heard someone splashing in the water. I pulled a giant palm leaf away and looked into the clearing. Damien was swimming in a small pool of water. He looked like he was having fun. How could he be frolicking merrily at a time like this?
Then in one swift, splashy movement he climbed out of the water and…Oh God! He was naked. My hands immediately flew over my eyes just as he turned around. Luckily, it was just in the nick of time. Thank God I hadn’t seen his…
Giant penis!
I jumped back in absolute shock-horror, as I caught sight of the rock that was poking out of the thick bush and staring straight at me. The rock in question looked like it should be starring in an ad for Viagra. Not just that, but plastered across a giant billboard, or one of those ad banners that covers the entire side of a massive building.
“Lilly…is that you?” Damien called out.
My hands flew over my mouth this time, and I wished he hadn’t heard me. It would’ve been nice to silently run back to the beach, pretending that I hadn’t been anywhere in the general vicinity of his naked body. I didn’t want to get into an awkward conversation about whether or not I had just seen his manly bits. Which I hadn’t! Let’s be clear, I had not seen his…
But instead, I was staring at a giant penis-shaped rock and thinking about it anyway.
“Yes. It’s me.”
“Hang on, give me a second,” he called out. I could hear him fiddling with clothing.
“It’s okay…I’m still…well, I hit a rock, I’m still a little way—um…” I stood dead still for a few moments, hoping to convey the sense that I was still en route. I stamped a few times for authenticity as I “approached” him.
“Here I am.” I walked into the clearing, making sure I didn’t let my eyes wander below his waist. “I see you found water.”
“I hope you don’t mind that I had a bit of a swim in it?”
Oh God, he’d been swimming free willy in our drinking water…I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I watched him put on his shirt and I hoped I wasn’t gawking, because all I could think about was his skinny-dipping self. I had also become acutely aware of the unsubtle rock sculpture right behind me. I looked away from Damien and immediately wished I hadn’t.
It was as if the universe was conspiring to play the sickest joke imaginable. The joke was so sick, I wondered if I wasn’t hallucinating.
But after blinking a few times and squinting, I realized that it was neither a joke nor a figment of my imagination. There, surrounding the clearing, rising up from the underbrush, poking out of every nook and cranny, jutting out of the ground, peeping out from behind the palm leaves…rocks.
All with one thing in common.
They looked like penises.
To make matters worse, Damien had taken to leaning casually against a massive one that jutted straight up. My mouth fell open and all I could think abou
t, as I gazed from Damien to the rock and back to Damien and then to the rocks, was…well, it was pretty damn obvious what I was thinking about! This was making me feel so awkward I wanted to crawl out of my skin…
…penis, penis, penis, penis, penis, penis!
“I know right! They look like giant dicks,” Damien suddenly said as casually as ever.
“I’ve heard about these but haven’t seen them before. They’re pretty famous in Thailand actually.” He flashed me a smile, but I certainly wasn’t ready to reciprocate, nor was I ready to acknowledge the fact that we were surrounded by a pack of penises. Penii?
“Really…” I shrugged. “I hadn’t noticed.” I tried to look casual, but inside I was freaking out.
Damien laughed. “You’re not a very good liar, Lilly. It’s plastered across your face. You’re gaping at the giant penises.”
“I am not! Not. Okay? Not.”
“Mmmm…I’m sure that’s what all the girls say,” he added with a mischievous smile that did nothing to distract me from the fact that I was surrounded by massive dicks! I must have blushed, or something equally embarrassing, because Damien laughed again.
“Lilly, you’re so squeamish.” His tone was distinctly mocking and playful.
“I’m not.” But truthfully I was. I was very squeamish when it came to things like strip clubs and phallic-shaped rocks. Truthfully, a traumatic childhood experience had completely altered my perception of sex and sexuality. My friends were always trying to get me to loosen up, especially Stormy. She’d even suggested I go to someone who could help unblock my root chakra—whatever that was.
“They’re just rocks, Lilly. They look like that from all the friction caused by wind and grinding against other rocks for thousands of years,” he said very calmly, as if sensing my terror.
I swallowed hard. Great! I wasn’t just thinking about the phallic forest now, but I was also thinking about bumping and grinding and all manner of different frictions.
“There’s also a famous vagina-shaped rock on Koh Samui. They’re very common here.”
“Stop!” I threw my hands in the air. “Can we not talk about…you know. It’s enough that we have to be surrounded by the bloody things without you giving me a geology class, too…so did you find a village?” I quickly tried to change the subject.
“A village?”
“You went looking for a village,” I reiterated. “Did you find one?”
“Oh. No I didn’t.”
“So now what?” I sighed and threw my hands in the air, bumping one of the rocks. I pulled away quickly.
“Why does this freak you out so much?” he asked, looking up at me curiously. I held his gaze for a while, wondering if I should tell him. His face suddenly softened and he smiled at me gently.
“You don’t have to tell me.”
“I know,” I said. But suddenly I wanted to tell him. There was something about Damien that made me feel safe to open up and be myself.
“When I was about ten, I went on a camping trip with my mom and her new boyfriend. We were all staying in a caravan together and…” I cringed just thinking about it and Damien jumped off the rock as if something had shocked him. He started coming toward me.
“No. It’s nothing like that,” I said quickly. “My mother and her boyfriend…well, let’s just say it wasn’t pleasant when they kept me and the entire camp up all night with their disgusting noises. And worst of all, the guy had a running commentary going throughout the whole thing. He was very clear and specific about what he was doing, what he was about to do, and what he wanted to do, and trust me, it was very Fifty Shades. And it went on for hours, and then for the rest of our vacation. It was disgusting. So yes, you can say that my attitude about sex is a little bit damaged.”
“That’s really terrible, Lilly. I’m sorry,” Damien said. He looked genuinely upset by my story. This was such a change from what had happened when I’d told Michael. He’d laughed and told his friends and soon it was turned into a joke. Michael also didn’t think it was a very legitimate excuse for lack of sex, either, I might add.
Damien slipped his shirt back on and grabbed his things. “Come, let’s get out of here then.” But as he said it, we both heard the roar of an engine. I practically threw myself through the thick foliage and straight back onto the beach. Damien was in hot pursuit and we both barreled onto the soft sand and ran for the shore screaming and waving our arms widely. But it was too late. The second we’d managed to get close enough to be seen, the tour boat was gone.
“Crrraaaaappp!” I struggled to deflect the waves of frustration and anger that had just smashed through me. “Craaappp!” I screeched again before collapsing onto the ground in the manner of a soap opera actress. Or my mother. I quickly preempted Damien’s response, which I was getting all too familiar with by now. “This is not funny, by the way!”
But he wasn’t smiling this time. Maybe he was finally taking this “stranded” thing seriously. My heart jumped. I think I preferred it when he thought it was all a big fat joke. He flopped down onto the sand next to me. “So we missed this one. At least we know they come past. We’ll wave down the next one. Promise.”
“Promise?”
“I promise we’re going to get off this island.”
I nodded tentatively. I wished I had his confidence right now.
“Remember what I said. I would never let anything bad happen to you.”
We smiled at each other for a moment, and I felt mildly better. The sand was warm and didn’t feel unpleasant, even if the situation was. I ran my fingers through it. It was so fine and soft that it reminded me of cotton candy that melts at the touch.
“It is beautiful here, though,” I offered, looking back up at the sea. A familiar-looking shape bobbed up and down in the current.
“Well, there go my new shoes,” I said, pointing. “And there goes a handbag.” I didn’t even flinch; in fact, I was somewhat relieved I wouldn’t have to lug them around anymore—who needs high heels when you’re stranded on a pile of sand anyway?
But then the waves started lapping dangerously close to my bag of clothes. Those I did need! Before I could make a move to save them, Damien was already jumping into action. He waded into the water and started pulling them out, stuffing them back into the bag.
“That’s about as close to fishing as I’ll ever come.” He strode out of the water and headed for a palm tree that was growing horizontally across the sand. I watched as he carefully hung my clothes over it to dry.
“This is so domestic.” He turned around and flashed me a massive smile before returning to his task.
He was right. I was totally domestic, and suddenly I imagined Damien like that. Coming home from work after a long day in the physics lab, or whatever you call it. I would cook, we would have a glass of wine and laugh and chat about our days and…
What was going on? What the hell was I thinking?
I tried to stop the thought dead in its tracks, but to no avail. The thought plowed into me with such force that I jumped up.
I was…no, this was not happening.
Too late…it had already happened.
I liked this guy.
A lot. Maybe more than a lot.
Chapter Sixteen
The sun was starting to set over our little lonesome rock. We hadn’t seen another boat go by in the last couple of hours, but after constant reassurances from Damien that a whole bunch would come past in the morning, I was vaguely starting to relax. Vaguely. I had no option really.
The air was still warm, despite the sun taking its final bow. Damien and I had made our way through two bags of big chips and a slab of chocolate already and he was on his way to top off our water supply. We were both physically fine. No one had had their limbs gnawed off by passing indigenous cannibals, or sustained any deadly insect bites. All in all, our exile was going rather well.
I’d been stealing glances at Damien all afternoon, trying to figure out whether I really liked him or whether
the whole marooned-on-an-island-and-possibly-facing-death situation was messing with my emotions. How could I like someone so quickly, and so damn much, after being left at the altar only a few days ago?
Right now, I was supposed to be Mrs. Lilly Edwards. A wife. The wedding seemed so far away now and so did Michael. It was so surreal, like a bad dream you can’t shake.
God, how had it all happened?
“What are you thinking about?” Damien was standing next to me with a full bottle of water; I hadn’t even noticed him return. I had disappeared down a trail of thoughts that left me feeling very uneasy.
“The wedding. Or lack thereof,” I half grumbled.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what do you think happened?” he asked gently, sitting next to me on the sand.
“I think…I think that maybe the relationship wasn’t as good as I thought it was. Maybe he wasn’t ready to get married…” Then the painful part to admit to myself. The bit that had been biting at the back of my mind for a few days now. “I don’t think he ever wanted to get married. Maybe he’d felt pressured.”
The engagement, marriage, and wedding had been my idea. Settle down, start a family, get a dog, a manicured lawn, and perfectly pruned roses. Wasn’t that how it was supposed to work? Maybe I’d wanted that life so badly that I’d had blinders on.
Looking back now, there had been some signs. I just hadn’t noticed them at the time. The closer we’d gotten to the wedding, the more distant he’d become and the more time he’d spent working late and on weekends. He constantly forgot wedding appointments, and whenever I excitedly showed him a picture from a magazine or asked his opinion about something, he’d just said, “Do whatever you want, honey.”
“Even if he felt pressured, he still shouldn’t have proposed,” Damien said.
“No.”
“And he shouldn’t have waited until your wedding day to tell you, either. That’s just cowardly.” Damien sounded genuinely angry. “Bastard.”
I smiled. There was something so sweet about Damien getting upset like this.
“Do you want me to hurt him?” he asked.