"Winston Egbert, I wish you'd never been born!" Jessica yelled, her hands on her hips. "It was all your fault our boat capsized and we got separated from everyone else in the first place. It's your fault we're stuck on this stupid island. If it wasn't for you, I'd be home with my family right now! I hope the cannibals get you. I never want to talk to you again!"
Heedless of the bushes scratching her feet and legs, Jessica sharply turned her back on Winston and stomped off in the direction of the beach.
Winston hurried after her. "I'm sorry, Jessica," he called in a humble voice. "I know it's my fault we're stranded here. But, hey, I can make it up to you. Come over here!"
Jessica turned reluctantly. She wasn't going to talk to Winston, but she supposed she could look at him now and then. She saw him striding eagerly to the opposite end of the beach, and she followed slowly, dragging her feet. There was no reason to hurry, that was for sure.
"Look, Jess!" Winston waved his arm proudly at a flat rock piled high with oranges, berries, and a couple of silvery still-wet fish. "I woke up early this morning and picked the fruit," Winston explained. "Then I caught the fish. They swam right up to the edge of the beach. I didn't even need a rod and line!"
Jessica shrugged, pretending she wasn't impressed. "I can catch my own fish," she said pointedly.
Winston didn't seem to have heard her. "And look at this!" He knelt down next to a stack of branches enclosed in a circle of small rocks. "I was just about to start a fire. I went into the woods to find some more firewood, and that's when I saw you. I'm going to fry up this fish and have a genuine feasteroo. There's enough for both of us."
Jessica laughed scornfully. "Oh, and just how are you planning to light a fire?" she challenged. "I suppose you're going to rub two sticks together like a caveman!"
"Wrong-o," Winston corrected her, his expression triumphant. "I happen to have saved the little waterproof emergency package that was zipped in the pocket inside the lifeboat. It's got everything! Band-Aids, a Swiss army knife, matches . . ."
With a humph, Jessica turned her back on Winston again and marched to the other end of the beach. She sat down on the sand with her back against a log and tipped her face to the sun.
Winston acts like he's almost glad we're shipwrecked, Jessica thought, disgusted. He's too stupid even to know when he's in trouble!
An image of juicy berries and fresh, hot fish popped into Jessica's head, but she tried to ignore it. She didn't want to have anything to do with Winston or his poor excuse for breakfast. Winston was a pest, a nerd, an all-around major-league bozo. He couldn't do anything right. He'd probably burn the fish and feed her poisonous berries. No, Jessica told herself, I'm better off on my own.
Elizabeth chewed her ham-and-cheese sandwich without even tasting it, oblivious of the usual lunchtime commotion around her in the cafeteria. She was only vaguely aware of voices and laughter, the clink of glasses and silverware, the scraping of chairs.
All morning at school she had been trying her best to concentrate, and failing miserably. She probably should have stayed home as her mother and father had suggested. She'd blanked out on her history quiz, something that had never happened to her before. She would probably get an F—that would be a first, too. But Elizabeth found it hard to care. She felt as if half of her mind and heart and soul were missing, and she knew she would keep feeling that way until Jessica was found.
"I hate to see such good food go to waste," Jeffrey teased as Elizabeth pulled a plastic bag of homemade oatmeal-raisin cookies out of her lunch bag and then pushed them away.
Elizabeth forced a smile for Jeffrey's benefit. She knew how hard he was trying to cheer her up. "They're all yours," she offered. Jeffrey took a cookie and munched it with a satisfied expression.
"Here come some more sympathizers, Liz," Enid warned Elizabeth.
Elizabeth looked up from the table with a resigned sigh. All morning long, people had been staring at her, in her classes and in the halls. She knew they weren't just curious stares—she knew the other students felt for her and what she must be going through—but still it made her skin crawl. It was as if people were already thinking, "There goes Elizabeth Wakefield, the girl whose twin sister was drowned during that science class field trip."
But Jessica hasn't drowned, Elizabeth reminded herself. It's just going to take the Coast Guard awhile to locate them. There's a lot of water out there, and Jessica and Winston are in a tiny lifeboat.
Elizabeth, Enid, and Jeffrey had chosen an out-of-the-way corner table in the lunchroom because Elizabeth hadn't felt much like socializing. But they had been spotted anyway, and as Enid observed, the gang was trooping over: Cara, Amy Sutton, Ken, Aaron, Robin Wilson, and Bruce Patman. Once everyone had pulled up a chair, there was quite a crowd around the small table.
Robin Wilson, who was co-captain of the cheerleading squad with Jessica, was the first to speak. "Liz, I don't know what to say," she began, giving Elizabeth's hand an awkward pat. "I'm going crazy worrying about Jess and Winston. I can imagine how you must feel!"
"It's no picnic," Elizabeth said with a feeble attempt at lightheartedness.
Even wealthy, arrogant Bruce Patman was wearing a solemn expression. "It shouldn't have happened," he declared with the confidence of someone whose family owned a whole fleet of yachts. "Obviously that charter boat wasn't seaworthy."
"It was an accident," Ken assured him. "I know something about boats, and I think it could have happened to any boat. The waves and the wind were just tearing the thing apart."
"I just can't believe it," said Amy Sutton. "I almost went on that field trip. I'm so lucky I didn't! I could be out there with Jessica in the middle of the Pacific Ocean right now." She shivered.
Elizabeth shook her head. Trust Amy to worry about herself instead of one of her best friends, she thought. She wished they would change the conversation to something else. But she understood that talking about Jessica and Winston helped ease the tension everyone was feeling.
"It's pretty freaky," Ken agreed. "It all happened so fast. I was talking to Jessica right before we had to jump ship." He smiled, remembering. "She was being lively and funny, her typical self. And then"—he lifted his broad shoulders in a helpless gesture—"she was gone."
"It's just not the same without them around," Aaron observed. "That crazy Winston! He was always up to something."
"Yeah," Bruce added, "something dumb!"
Aaron laughed. "That's true. We were always getting on his case for being such a goof."
There was a moment of thoughtful silence.
"We teased him something awful, didn't we?" said Cara.
"Maybe we gave him too hard a time now and then," Ken agreed, frowning. "I know I for one could be pretty mean."
"Me, too." Looking guilty, Bruce ran a hand through his dark hair. "It was just so easy to harass Egbert. He was such a perfect target!"
"I guess there's no point in beating ourselves over the head about it now," Aaron said. "It's too late to go back and treat him better."
Elizabeth had been playing distractedly with the gold lavaliere that hung on a delicate chain around her neck. It had been a sixteenth-birthday present from her parents, and Jessica wore an identical one. "You guys are so depressing!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "You sound like you're at a funeral or something! I think it's a little premature to be mourning. I bet at this very moment the Coast Guard is rescuing Jessica and Winston!"
Bruce, Aaron, and the others exchanged nervous glances. There was another long silence.
"What's the matter?" Jeffrey asked, looking to his best friend, Aaron, for an answer.
Aaron raised his eyebrows. "Didn't you hear?"
Aaron sounded so serious that Elizabeth felt her stomach turn over once or twice as she anticipated his next words.
"Hear what?" Jeffrey demanded urgently.
Aaron shifted awkwardly in his chair. "We were talking with Maria Santelli before we came over here. She had just been on the phone with Winston'
s parents. I guess the Coast Guard contacted the Egberts and probably your parents, too, Liz." He cleared his throat. "They found a lifeboat that they think was Jessica and Winston's drifting around somewhere off the coast, but no Jessica and Winston."
Enid gasped, horrified. Jeffrey put his arm around Elizabeth, who collapsed limply against him. "You're sure that's what they said?" Jeffrey asked, hoping the others had gotten the story wrong. But they all nodded unhappily.
For a few seconds Elizabeth felt as if she had been punched in the stomach—she couldn't get any air. Then she took a deep breath, pulling herself together with a gigantic effort. The others might be ready to give up on Jessica and Winston, but she wasn't.
"That doesn't mean anything," she argued. "There are a whole bunch of little islands out in the Pacific around Anacapa Island. The helicopters were going to check them out, too. I bet Jessica and Winston landed on one of them."
A few people nodded in encouragement. No one wanted to challenge Elizabeth's hopes. But they all knew that with every hour that went by, the odds were getting worse that Jessica and Winston would be found alive.
Seven
As Jessica stalked off in a melodramatic rage, Winston pretended to wash his hands of her. "Well, if that's the way she wants it," he said to himself nonchalantly, loud enough for Jessica to hear him. "There's enough food here for two people. Oh, well. I guess I'll just have to eat it all myself!"
Whistling cheerfully, Winston went ahead and kindled his cooking fire. He had a feeling Jessica would come crawling back once the fish was frying, and that was fine with him. His feelings hadn't really been hurt by her tantrum. He was familiar with Jessica's hotheaded style, and it was natural for her to be upset about being shipwrecked. He could have predicted that she would react the way she did, especially to his news about losing the lifeboat. Winston had to admit he deserved to be yelled at for that.
He loudly whistled a tuneless rendition of the Sweet Valley High fight song as he cleaned the fish with the Swiss army knife and then wrapped the fillets in palm leaves and laid them on the fire. After a while a tantalizing aroma wafted up from the grilled fish, and Winston's mouth watered in anticipation. It felt like a hundred years since his last meal, a lousy peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich he'd wolfed down right before the field trip. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Jessica, about twenty yards away, perched on a log. She was wrinkling her nose, shifting the air discreetly. It was time to start the show.
Humming energetically, Winston flipped the palm-wrapped fish with a flourish. Then he sat down on the sand next to his pile of fruit and surveyed it. "Hmm, it all looks so good, I'm not sure where to start," he said loudly. He selected a large orange first and peeled it. It was unbelievably juicy, and he ate it, section by section, licking his lips dramatically. Next he sampled some plump berries, rubbing his stomach to indicate his enjoyment. At this rate he figured Jessica would be able to hold out for about a minute longer, tops.
Not even pretending to sunbathe anymore, Jessica watched Winston devour his fruit. An orange had never looked so good to her, and the smell of the fish was irresistible. She was in agony.
I swore I'd never speak to him again, Jessica reminded herself. Then she saw a loophole. She hadn't sworn she wouldn't eat with him, had she? And she had to eat; she had to keep up her strength. If she didn't, she would starve to death and never get off the island and away from Winston.
Standing up, Jessica casually meandered over toward Winston. "I decided to take pity on you," she informed him in a lofty tone as she approached. "It's obvious by the particularly weird way you're acting that you'll totally crack up if you're left to yourself for much longer."
"Well, thanks for saving me from insanity," Winston said amiably. "Pull up a stone and have some chow."
Jessica sat down next to Winston, grateful in spite of herself. She knew Winston saw right through her feeble excuse for giving in and coming over, but he didn't give her a hard time about it. He was willing to share his food with her, even after all the nasty things she had said to him. Jessica had to admit that she herself would have behaved differently. She probably would have hoarded her food with a vengeance and really made Winston suffer. But he was being so nice!
"Thanks," Jessica said as she helped herself to a handful of berries. At first she tried to eat in a slow, polite fashion, but it was impossible. Cramming as many berries into her mouth as she could, she reached for more. She was so hungry.
A minute later Winston decided the fish was done. He carefully lifted the fillets from the fire and rested them on the rock that served as their table. "One for you and one for me," he said, rubbing his hands together. "Dig in!"
Jessica unwrapped her portion and tasted the fish. It was hot, tender, and delicious. "My compliments to the chef," she said to Winston as she took another bite.
Winston made a comical half bow. "I'm so glad madam is pleased with my little concoction. It's an old family recipe."
The fish disappeared in a matter of seconds. Winston licked his fingers, and Jessica wiped her mouth delicately on a palm leaf. "Thanks again, Winston. I mean, for sharing your food with me," Jessica said. "How can I repay you?" Her turquoise eyes sparkled mischievously. "I know, I'll do the dishes!"
Jessica made a great fuss of collecting the charred palm leaves and dumping them in the bushes. She dusted off the rock they had eaten on with a fern frond and buried the orange peels in the sand. "This is kind of fun," she admitted. "It sure beats real housework, anyway."
Winston bit into another orange while Jessica settled herself down on the sand nearby. Now that she had eaten, she felt a lot more upbeat about her—their—predicament. It probably would be only a matter of minutes before a huge rescue boat pulled up at the island. Her parents and Liz and Steve would be on board, as well as Ken Matthews, and perhaps even the mayor of Sweet Valley. There would be tears of joy and lots of picture taking. Winston would describe how they had caught and cooked the fish, and everyone would marvel at their ability to survive under such primitive conditions. A statewide holiday would be declared and a ticker-tape parade held in their honor . . .
Jessica's eyelids drooped. The sun had climbed higher while she and Winston ate. It was now at the perfect angle for tanning. Jessica smiled to herself, imagining how her friends, Lila especially, would envy her. Maybe she was stranded with Winston and not some gorgeous hunk, but she was still missing a day of school and lounging on a tropical beach. And after she was rescued, she would be a celebrity.
Jessica's daydreams were interrupted when a shadow came between her and the sun. A cloud? she wondered, opening one eye. But it was Winston, standing over her with a purposeful expression on his face. Jessica frowned as all the irritating incidents on the field trip with her buddy came back to her. She should have known it would be just a matter of time before Winston disturbed her peace.
"Up and at 'em!" Winston urged, sounding like an army drill sergeant. "No sleeping on the job, Jessica. We have work to do!"
"Work?" Jessica stared at him, shielding her eyes with her hand. "Winston, don't tell me the sun's already gotten to you. In case you haven't noticed, we're stranded on an island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. It's a gorgeous day. The word work just does not apply in this situation!"
"That's where you're wrong." Winston didn't appear to be the least bit taken aback by Jessica's sharp tone. "You want to be rescued, don't you?"
"Of course!"
"And if we're not rescued right away, you want to have food and shelter, don't you?"
Jessica hated to admit it, but what Winston said made sense. "I guess," she acknowledged grudgingly. She sighed and slowly got to her feet. "You're right. Where do we start?"
Winston slapped her on the shoulder. "That's the team spirit!" he commended her. "First we need to make some kind of sign to attract rescuers. This little beach is a good spot. It's visible from the water and from the sky."
"I know what you mean!" Jessica exclaimed. "In the movies
, people on deserted islands always write messages in the sand, making big letters out of sticks and leaves and stuff." That sounded like a great idea to Jessica. She could do it and work on her tan at the same time.
But Winston greeted her suggestion with a dismissive wave of his hand. "That would take hours," he pointed out. "It wouldn't be an efficient use of our time and energy. What I had in mind was to find a bright object to use as a reflector. Something that'll catch the sunlight. We could send S.O.S. signals with it."
"OK." Jessica shrugged. "I don't care, to tell you the truth. But where are you going to find a bright object?"
"Well . . ." Winston hesitated. His eyes fastened on Jessica's right wrist.
"Oh, no, you don't." She put her left hand protectively over her wide bracelet. "This happens to be fourteen-karat gold. My grandmother gave it to me."
"We won't lose it," Winston argued. "I promise you. C'mon, fork it over!"
"Make me." Jessica crossed her arms over her chest and faced Winston with her best stone-faced scowl.
"Jessica, be reasonable!" For a moment Winston sounded uncharacteristically serious. "I'm only trying to help. I want to get us off this island as quickly as possible. A reflector would be much more effective than letters in the sand. I'm not just asking for your bracelet so I can play a game with it. This is survival!"
Winston's sincere efforts to save them made Jessica feel embarrassed about the selfish way she had reacted to the suggestion. She supposed he was only trying to get things done. But, still, there was no way she was going to let that bracelet leave her wrist.
"You're right, a reflector probably is a better idea than writing in the sand," Jessica conceded. "But you're going to have to find some other bright object."
Winston's eyes lit up. "And I just thought of something else we can use, thank you very much!" he announced. "The Swiss army knife!"
Jessica was relieved that she wouldn't have to worry about holding on to her bracelet. "Great!"
Lost At Sea (Sweet Valley High Book 56) Page 5