“We’ll get out of this all right.”
“You guarantee that?” Barkley said, his eyes glinting. “We might be like that Robinson Crusoe fellow that Rena keeps talking about. He was on that island of his for thirty years or something like that. A long time.”
“God can get us off anytime He wants to. He knows we’re here, and He knows why we’re here. I don’t understand it, Captain, but He does. Here we had this nice little plan all made out. Go to the South Sea islands and form a mission there and preach to the natives, and here we are instead.”
“Nobody to preach to but each other. Things have gone a bit wrong, I’d say.”
Travis leaned back against the tree and studied Captain Barkley. He admired the man greatly and had prayed for him almost every day since they had first met. He knew better than to attack Barkley head-on with an evangelical barrage, but he never let an opportunity pass to talk to him about God and what Christ meant in his own life. Now he said, “You know God said that He works in ways that are kind of like a river. Jesus said that when a man obeys Him, rivers of living water would flow out of him. That means, I think, that His life through that person is like a river.”
Travis leaned over and picked up one of the long shavings that had fallen from the captain’s knife. He stretched it out, let it curl up again, and then continued speaking slowly, his brow furrowed with thought. “You know, if I wanted to get water from one place to another across land, I’d dig a canal just as straight as I could from point A to point B.”
“That’s the way to do it, all right.”
“But a river doesn’t go straight. You know that. It meanders like a snake. I’ve seen the Mississippi. It crawls all over the place and even cuts back on itself. Nothing straight about it. I think that’s the way God works in our lives.”
A puzzled frown came to Captain Barkley’s face. “I don’t see what you mean, Travis.”
“I simply mean that God is always doing things in our lives, but He doesn’t guide us from point A to point B in a straight line. He nudges us in directions we’d never think of going. Think of Joseph, for instance. You know the story?”
“Sure. Think I’m an illiterate?”
Travis grinned and shook his head. “Not at all. Well, God was going to use Joseph in great ways. So what did He do? First He had him thrown into a pit by his brothers, then sold into slavery. Then He had him locked up in a prison in Egypt. Nothing good, it seemed, ever happened to that man. There’s a verse in the Psalms that says of Joseph, ‘Until the time that his word came, the word of the Lord tried him.’ God took Joseph down some mighty strange paths, but when He was through with him, He had a man He could use.”
“Oh, come on, Travis. You don’t think God put all of us out here on this island to make better people out of us, do you?”
“I think that might be true.”
“That’s foolishness!”
“Let me ask you something, Captain. Have you thought about God more or less since we’ve been marooned here?”
A scowl crossed the big captain’s face. “More, I guess,” he confessed.
“Sure, all of us have. He’s got our attention.”
Captain Barkley got up and gathered his pegs. He paused and wheeled around. “You’re preachin’ at me, boy.”
“Sure I am. Next thing you know I’ll be taking up a collection.”
“Don’t quit,” he said gruffly. “Just keep on preachin’.” He turned and walked away, a big form burned by the sun, as tough as boot leather.
Travis watched him go and then whispered under his breath, “I won’t quit. You can bet on that, Captain Barkley!”
****
Rena forgot the conversation she’d had with Barkley and Travis about soap. But on the very last day of 1935, early in the morning, Travis stopped her as she was preparing to go down to the beach to catch crabs. They had discovered that ugly as the creatures were, Oscar had a way of cooking them that made them delicious.
“Hey, Rena, you ready to see your prayer answered?”
Rena turned. “What prayer are you talking about?” She had not forgotten Travis’s embrace on the top of the cliff and had resisted his efforts at friendliness since then. She wasn’t sure if she was afraid of him, but she certainly knew she was afraid of herself around him. She was determined never to let such a thing happen again.
“Do you remember what you talked about with Captain Barkley a few weeks back?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“He told you to pray for soap.”
“Oh, that!” Rena waved her hand in disdain. “I remember it now.”
“Did you pray for it?”
“Why, I think I did that night, but I felt silly doing it. Why?”
“Because you’re going to have soap today,” Travis said with a light of humor dancing in his eyes. “We can’t let the captain think our God’s not able to give us a little soap.”
Rena stared at Travis. “What are you talking about? Did you find soap washed in from the wreck?”
“Nope, didn’t come that easy, but I’ve got everything we need now.” He laughed at her disbelieving expression. “We’re going to make soap!”
Rena’s astonishment was evident. “You’re kidding me.”
“No. Took a while to get the materials ready, but I thought you might like to help me.”
“If you mean it, I’ll do anything. How in the world do you make soap?”
“Come along. I’ll show you.” Rena followed Travis until he stopped beside a strange-looking contraption set up under a tree. The wooden device resembled a barrel set in a frame more than anything else she could think of. It was about a foot and a half high, and the top was about eighteen inches square. It tapered down smaller at the bottom, and there was a bucket sitting under it. Another bucket was suspended from a tree branch directly above the device.
“This is what you call a hopper,” Travis said as he pointed to the funnel-shaped barrel.
Rena examined the affair from all sides. “You make soap with this?”
“Sure do,” Travis said breezily. He was enjoying himself and laughed at her confusion. “And here are the ingredients.” He pointed to a small pile of sticks and a large pile of ashes. Travis picked up some sticks and arranged them in the bottom of the hopper. Then he scooped up a double handful of ashes. “Help me fill it up.”
“But . . . but these are ashes! You can’t make soap out of ashes.”
“Don’t take any bets on that. We’re gonna fill it plumb to the top.”
Rena was afraid Travis was playing a joke on her, but she helped him anyway as he filled up the hopper. “Now we pour water through it.” He removed a small stick that she now noticed had been plugging a small hole in the bucket. Water began dribbling out. “All we have to do for this first step is to just let the water filter down through the ashes. It’ll come out here, and we’ll catch it in this other pail. It’ll take a while for those ashes to soak up the water.”
Rena was staring at the device in disbelief. She shook her head and said, “This doesn’t make any sense.”
“You’d better watch close, preacher lady. You’re about to see a miracle.”
****
Rena watched as Travis took the brown water that had been filtered through the ashes. Rena stuck out her hand, intending to touch it.
“Don’t do that. It wouldn’t be good for your finger.” He laughed at Rena’s expression. “What you have here is a form of lye.”
“Lye? That’s the way you make lye?”
“It’s one way of making it. I expect there are better ways, but this is the only way I could think of here with the materials we have. Now we’re ready for step two.” He had already made a fire, and she watched as he put a large deep pan on it and then poured the brown lye water into it. “Now,” he said, “we need one more thing, and I’ve got it right here.” He pushed another pan over toward her. “There’s the basis of your soap.”
�
�What is it?”
“It’s fat—animal fat. It took a long time to get it, but every time we ate meat, I went around and saved all the fat. There’s not much fat on those wild goats, so this won’t make much. I think if we could find something besides animal fat, we could make lots of soap.” He poured the fat into the pan with the water and then picked up a primitive spoon he had carved out of wood. “I boiled this fat yesterday to get it ready.”
“Is that what smelled so awful yesterday? I wondered what you were up to.”
“Yep. It sure stinks up a place. Now, we just stir it up and let it boil for hours.”
Rena was fascinated. She sat down and watched as the mixture boiled.
After a while, Travis remarked, “It’s beginning to get thick now. It looks a little like chicken gravy, doesn’t it? Well, there’s one more thing to put in it. Chip made this donation.” He produced a small canvas sack. “Smell this,” he said.
“Why, it smells wonderful!”
“It’s some kind of flower that Chip found. You want to put it in?”
Rena took the bag and began to put the small leaves into the pot. When they were all in, Travis said, “I’ll give it a good stir, and then we can just come back once in a while and make sure the fire’s still going fine.”
Early that evening Rena and Travis checked on the soap and determined that it was ready. Travis went to the supply tent and came back with a large, deep, flat pan. “I’m glad we managed to salvage all these pans. Don’t know what we would have done without them. Okay, we’re ready for the soap now.” He carefully lifted the pan from the fire and poured the mixture into the flat pan. Then he sat back and said, “Now we let it sit until it cools.”
An hour later they returned to check the soap. Rena could hardly wait, and she talked excitedly as she knelt in front of Travis, staring into the pan. She did not know what an attractive picture she made to Travis. He couldn’t help but notice the clean-running physical lines she had. Her thin dress had been softened by many washings, and the light that filtered through the trees showed the full, soft lines of her body, the womanliness of her form. Her face was a mirror that changed as her feelings changed, and as always, he noticed that she had a beautifully fashioned face, with generous features capable of robust emotions. He saw also the hint of her will and the pride in the corners of her eyes and lips. Finally she looked up, her face bright, and said, “Is it ready now?”
“It should be. Here.” He opened up his knife and handed it to her. “Just cut it into squares like it’s fudge.”
Rena took the knife and sliced the mixture into small squares. She carefully lifted one out and sniffed it. “Travis, it smells heavenly!”
“Better go try some of it. Share it among the ladies.”
“I will right now. Oh, thank you, Travis!” She got up and started away more excited than he had ever seen her, then she stopped suddenly and turned around. A look came over her face that Travis could not explain. He had watched her for these months and had seen very little gentleness. Indeed, he had seen some bitterness over the way they’d been forced to live, but now there was a softness and even a hint of vulnerability. Through soft lips she said firmly, “I’ll tell Captain Barkley about how God sent soap in answer to my prayer.”
“I think that would be good. He’s a man who needs to find God. Go wash your hair now.”
****
Rena took all of the women down to the stream to bathe. She shared the soap with them, warning them not to use any more than they had to. The soap worked well to remove the grime from their bodies and the stickiness from their hair. When they dressed, Rena flipped her clean hair around and held it to her face. “Oh, it smells so good!”
Meredith Wynne had enjoyed the bath and the smell of clean, fresh hair as much as Rena. “I think it’s so wonderful the way Travis made this soap,” Meredith exclaimed. She ran her hand over her hair and laughed aloud with sheer delight. “I think I could just kiss Travis for this!”
Startled, Rena looked at Meredith. She had noticed more than once that Meredith and Travis spent a great deal of time together. Meredith was an attractive woman, but it had never occurred to Rena that she might be attracted to Travis. Back in her world that would have been impossible, but in this world perhaps it was not. “Yes, it was thoughtful of him,” Rena said quietly.
Meredith stared at Rena and then laughed. “He’s an attractive man, and our options out here are pretty limited. None of us is going to marry a millionaire or a duke—not as long as we’re on this island.” As the others turned to look at her, Meredith continued, “As a matter of fact, he’s a prime candidate in this world.”
“Don’t be foolish! We’ll be off of this island one day,” Rena said.
“I don’t think so,” Meredith said. “I have a feeling about this. I don’t think we’ll ever get off this island. So we’d better make the best of it.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Abigail said quickly. “We’ll get off.”
“Sure we will,” Maggie put in. “We’re going to make it fine. If God can give us soap, He can get us off this island. Now, don’t talk like that anymore.”
“I know He can get us off this island,” Meredith said with a smile, “but if He doesn’t, Travis is my pick for a husband.”
****
The men were working on a more permanent storage place for food and water at Chip’s insistence. “When another big storm comes along,” Chip had informed them, “the water might not be drinkable for a while—even from the spring. We’d better have some stored along with the food. We need to build something well off the ground to keep it protected.” The men worked hard cutting timbers with the hatchets and forming a framework.
The story of the soap making had got around, of course. As they cut timbers they talked about the women’s excitement over the soap. Charlie Day couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about. He huffed, “If you wanna make somethin’, Travis, make a still. I’m dyin’ for a drink.”
“I wouldn’t mind a drink myself,” Oscar Blevins said. “Just somethin’ to warm me up on these cool mornings.”
The day was blistering, and Day’s remark earned approval from Cerny Novak. “That’s right,” he said. “It should be as easy to make whiskey as it is to make soap.”
“I don’t think we need anything like that,” Captain Barkley said.
“I ran a still once,” Lars Olsen put in. “It wasn’t too hard.” The big Swede was leaning back against one of the timbers that supported the platform. “Of course you’ve got to have copper tubing.”
Cerny Novak stopped working. “You know how to make a still?”
“Sure I do,” Lars said.
“We won’t have any stills,” the captain said in a flat voice.
Novak turned to the captain. “If we wanna make a still, and we know how, we’ll make one, Barkley!”
Everyone grew still. It was the first time any of the crew had ever left off the captain’s title. Now suddenly, out of the quietness of the afternoon, a crisis had erupted. To Travis it was almost as if a bomb had gone off. He tried to ease the tension by saying, “Well, there’s no point in arguing about that. There’s no copper tubing here.”
“If I find a way, I’ll make it,” Novak growled. He made a threatening figure, big and strong and dangerous. “Let’s get one thing straight right now. Back when we were on the ship, you were the captain and we were the crew. But we’re no longer under sail. Nobody’s paying anybody else.”
“Somebody has to be in charge,” Captain Barkley said.
“Who said it had to be you?”
“I see you think you could do a better job.”
“It’s kind of like in the old days. The best man runs the show. I think I’m a better man than you are, Caleb. I always thought so. You might be able to navigate better than I can, but that don’t mean a thing out here.”
“Wait a minute,” Travis said quickly.
“No, you wait a minute,” Cerny snapped. “Who s
aid we have to be democratic here?” A grin creased his meaty lips. “Maybe there’ll just be a king. Whichever man is the strongest, eh?”
“I hope it doesn’t come to that, Cerny,” Travis said.
“You think you can take me?”
“I think all of us together could.”
“That’s right,” Pete Alford said. He came to stand beside the captain and Travis. The three of them, all strong men, stared at Novak. “We don’t need to fight about this thing.”
“Yes,” the professor said. He had been of little use on the structure, for he was not good with his hands, but now he did not like what was happening. “Nobody wants to lord over anyone, but we have to have a leader.”
Cerny Novak was no fool. He saw that the tide was against him and laughed shortly. “All right, I guess you’re still the boss, Captain.” He sneered as he used the word captain, and then he turned and walked out into the woods.
Charlie Day called out, “Wait a minute, Novak!” Charlie took off after Novak.
When he was gone, Captain Barkley said, “That could have been a bad scene.”
“Yes, it could.” The professor gnawed his lip. “I’m glad you two stood by the captain. I’m afraid Novak could be a very violent fellow.”
“He would be if he had a chance,” Dalton said. He had taken no part in this conversation until now. “But there’s one more thing. We do need to be sure that we have some sort of democratic system here.”
“Do you want to be the leader, Dalton?” the captain asked.
Dalton flushed. “I didn’t say I wanted to be the leader, but I think it’s important that we don’t get divided.”
“I think it’ll be all right,” Travis said. “Everyone knows that the captain is used to leading men.”
Dalton started to respond, then shook his head. “All right, we’ll have to keep an eye on those two. Now, let’s get this platform built.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Clothes Make the Woman
Feeling a slight pull on the string she had tied around her index finger, Rena quickly reeled it in. Skillfully she plucked the soft-shell crab off of the end, where he clung tightly. She had mastered this rather simple art of catching crabs, having learned from Chip that all you needed was a piece of meat on the end of a string. The crab clung to the morsel of meat.
The Royal Handmaid Page 16