by J. Bengtsson
Post-tragedy Kyle spent years in therapy. He no longer felt safe in the world around him and would break out in a cold sweat if strangers got too close. He couldn’t step foot outside his front door without the security of family or close, dependable friends nearby. Traumatized Kyle stopped being adventurous because he could no longer trust that he’d land on his own two feet. He’d learned the hard way that the world wasn’t as simple or safe as he’d once believed. And guilty Kyle understood he didn’t deserve a fulfilling life when the reckless decisions he’d made had destroyed someone else’s world.
Of course I understood that I was my own harshest critic and that the chains I put on myself were of my own doing, but at the same time, I also knew what I was made of, and it was decidedly unfavorable stuff. So I hid behind my sarcastic humor and well-crafted insults in order to keep others from seeing the insecurities that lurked beneath the surface.
Coming on this show meant leaving behind my carefully structured life. One might expect that traveling for months on end would be chaotic and unpredictable, but Jake was even less adventurous than I was. He kept things unwaveringly routine. Even though the cities changed and the inside of the venues varied, the experiences largely remained the same. And I thrived in that stable environment.
Over the years, my parents had attempted to steer me away from life on the road in an effort to focus my attention toward my own hopes and dreams, but I always resisted their efforts. It wasn’t so much that I didn’t want my own life and my own unique experiences; I just didn’t know where to begin. Of course, my parents thought they knew what was best for me and were always pushing me toward higher education. I really wasn’t sure what they were thinking because I’d barely graduated ‘lower education.’ It had literally come right down to the wire. Would I graduate or not? In the end, I did, but only because the teacher who passed me did it for the sole purpose of never seeing my face again.
No. I was clearly not cut out for the academic lifestyle. I could barely handle the pressure of island life. These past few days had been an adjustment. When things got tough, my instinct had always been to rush back to the safe and comfortable. I’d never allowed myself the chance to adjust to a new situation, but I realized early on that I had no choice in this instance. This show was taking me out of my comfort zone, forcing me to keep my shit together, for no other reason than to avoid embarrassing myself in front of millions of viewers.
Kenzie came wandering up from the water’s edge, carrying a bucket. Her nasty sunburn was peeling in places and now there were patches of blotched, angry red burns. Her ruddy nose glowed like Rudolph’s.
“Hey there, Shaggy,” she greeted me, with a mischievous smile on her face.
“Hey there, ‘girl who puked on me’.”
Kenzie rolled her eyes dramatically. “Has it been twenty-four hours already?”
“Yep. Your reprieve officially ended two days ago. Now you’re playing by my rules.”
“Wonderful. Can I sit?”
“Go for it.”
She settled down onto the sand beside me. “You wanna see what I found on my treasure hunt?”
“Depends. Is your find gooey, squishy, stinky, slimy, or covered by a shell?”
Kenzie peered into her bucket, taking inventory of its contents. She wrinkled her nose and looked up at me through her long lashes. I had to admit, Kenzie’s wide-eyed innocence was somewhat adorable. “All of the above.”
“Forget it then.”
“Okay, suit yourself. But all this will be in the stew tonight, so you’ve been warned.”
I fake gagged.
“So what are you doing over here by yourself?”
“Pondering life.”
“Damn, that’s deep, Kyle. I didn’t know you had such self awareness.”
I extended my arms as if to say, ‘Yeah, that’s me – deep.’
Kenzie studied me with interest and then smiled warmly and said, “You intrigue me.”
“Me?” I laughed. “I can’t imagine why.”
She continued to size me up with her eyes, and then shrugged as if she’d decided to shelve the issue for now, but I could bet she’d bring it into play later.
“Tell me about your hometown,” I asked.
“There’s not much to tell. It’s a farming town, mostly dairy cows, and it’s got these beautiful, historic Victorian buildings. The people are really nice, but there aren’t many of them. It has a population of about 1,500 people.”
“Holy shit. You said it was small but that’s, like, teaspoon-sized.”
“Yeah, it’s tiny, all right, but rush hour’s a bitch.”
I smiled at her joke. I realized then that it was rare for me to have a conversation with a woman my age that didn’t revolve around Jake. I had to admit it was somewhat refreshing. “Do you know everyone in town?”
“Of course.”
“And is everyone sleeping with their cousins?”
“Probably,” Kenzie replied, with such indifference that it made me laugh.
“Do you like living there?”
She pondered my question, pausing for an overly long time. Something told me this girl had a few secrets in her past, too. “About as much as my slimy treasures like being trapped in the bucket.”
Her honesty surprised me. “That bad?”
“It’s a good place to grow up and to grow old, but the in between years… I’m not digging it as much. I just want to see more of the world, you know?”
“So why do you stay? Aren’t you like twenty-two or twenty-three?”
“Twenty-four, actually.”
“Really? Jesus, you’re old.”
She pushed against me like she was offended. “Oh, yeah? How old are you?”
“Almost twenty-three.”
“Almost?” She laughed. “You say that like a kid. I’m ten and three quarter years old,” she mimicked in a child’s voice.
“You’re just jealous because you’re one-and-three-quarter years closer to death than I am.”
“Death doesn’t go on a timetable, Kyle.”
I thought about that. Yeah, I was officially an idiot. Maybe my parents were right and a little higher education would do me good. “Yeah, well lucky for you, I like cougars.”
“Lucky for me?” she scoffed. “You wish.”
I laughed. Yeah, actually I kind of did.
“Besides, I hardly think one-and-three-quarter-years older qualifies me for cougar status,” Kenzie derided, attempting to act all put upon when the amusement in her eyes gave her away.
I put my hand up and waved it in her face. “Okay, Grandma, calm down.”
She gaped at me, her eyes huge. “Hasn’t your mother ever taught you never to make fun of a woman’s age or her weight?”
“She might have, but I typically just tune her out.”
Kenzie nodded and went back to observing the inside her bucket. She seemed suddenly reserved. Had I offended her? I was about to apologize when she looked up at me, her blue eyes so bright, and asked, “So… um… do you have a girlfriend?”
Aww… the girlfriend question. I smiled and answered, “No, I have a goldfish. But we’re just friends.”
“Shut up,” she laughed, tossing some sand on my leg. Not giving up, Kenzie took on an air of indifference and tried her question again. “So do you?”
I grinned. She seemed a little overly interested in my love life. “I do not.”
“I figured,” she said, trying to cover up her embarrassment. Or maybe her face was just bright red from the burn. I really couldn’t tell. “You’re rather annoying.”
I nodded my head in agreement. That I definitely was! I reached over and touched my finger to her nose. “It’s really burned.”
“Thanks for pointing that out, because I’m not already self-conscious enough as it is.”
“Oh, yeah, no problem. I didn’t realize you were feeling so insecure. Are all the other reindeer laughing and calling you names?”
Kenzie flicked my fi
nger off her nose and smacked me in the arm.
“Jerk,” she laughed.
“So you were going to tell me why you haven’t moved away,” I said, giving the poor girl a break from my reindeer jokes, because, honestly, I could go on all day.
“Oh,” Kenzie exhaled, and shifted her body uncomfortably. “That’s a long story. It’s not just about me. I have responsibilities.” She looked out over the ocean then sighed. “Someday, maybe. What about you?”
“Oh, you know, I’m from Southern California, so naturally I live in a giant mansion, surrounded by famous people.”
“Oh, right,” she laughed, playing along with my joke. Little did she know I wasn’t kidding. “So you just have the perfect life, huh?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
Kenzie wiped sand off her arms and gave me a sideways glance. “I don’t believe you.”
I wasn’t sure if she was teasing me or was really that perceptive. Regardless, she was getting a little too close for comfort, so I quickly changed the subject. “Tell me, Kenzie, what do you do for fun in your town of 1,500 people? Obviously there must be square-dancing and pie-making contests.”
“Of course… on Udder’s Day,” Kenzie said casually, as if she hadn’t just uttered the word ‘udder.’ Upon catching my stunned reaction she added, “What? Is that weird?”
I laughed. Kenzie raised an eyebrow and stuck her tongue out at me. “Well, if you must know, Udder’s Day is in honor of dairy month.”
“Yeah, I kind of figured that. What exactly is done on Udder’s Day? Does everyone milk cows?”
“Well, sure, we have milking contests, but there’s also a parade, music, baking competitions… oh, and all the grandmas in town judge cow costumes.”
It took me a moment to process all the information my brain was collecting. Kenzie looked on in amusement.
“So… I’m… I…wow…” I stammered. “That’s just….”
“Yeah, yeah,” she interrupted. “It’s more fun than it sounds.”
“Really? Because it sounds hysterical.”
We both laughed.
“So is the parade, like, cow-themed?”
“What do you think, Kyle?” she asked, as if there were no question.
“Honestly, Kenzie…” I shook my head. “I have no idea what to think.”
“Yes, there are cows, but businesses also have trucks and floats.”
“Floats? Oh, this just keeps getting better. I don’t know if you realize, but it’s always been a dream of mine to ride on a float and do that princess wave.”
I demonstrated my best closed-hand greeting.
“I could see that about you,” she giggled. “I tell you what, Kyle – next year, you can come to Udder’s Day as my honored guest.”
“Nothing would make me happier.”
TV Confessional
“I’d milk her cow any day.”
—Kyle
18
Kenzie: Daydream Believer
Marooned Rule #3
Approximately every two days, the East and West tribes meet and compete against each other in a physical challenge, with the losing tribe sending one of their members home.
My wavy-haired surfer boy wasn’t messing around when he said he could swim. The first challenge with the East tribe took place in the water. It was a grueling series of obstacle course style tasks that tested not only our swimming skills but also our physical stamina. Although Gene was initially reluctant to allow Kyle to take the lead in the challenge, as he preferred one of his own, like Bobby, to get the glory, he was forced to relent as the rest of us, having witnessed Kyle prowess in the water, insisted he was the man for the job. We all had our roles in the challenge, but Kyle’s job – diving down to release six bags from underwater – proved invaluable, as he was able to complete the task without coming up for air. We were a full two minutes ahead of the East tribe as we completed the other parts of the course. Our resounding win meant that all of us on the West tribe were safe until the next challenge, and the East Tribe would be the first to send a teammate home.
Our triumph was not without tribulations. Dale acquired his first of many island injuries. A block from the puzzle, the only part of the challenge that happened on land, fell on his toe. Not even trying to be a tough guy, Dale jumped around, wailing in pain. Later at camp his toe swelled up so big it was unable to fit in a shoe, so he ingeniously fashioned a palm leaf shoe and walked around like Fred Flintstone. Chances were it was broken, but there was very little he could do about it until the game was over.
The mood in camp after winning the challenge was nothing short of euphoric. The nine of us celebrated by taking a swim break in the ocean, and for the first time, it felt like we were an actual team. I was totally starting to get Gene’s fascination with winning. It felt good.
But as the day ran down, predictable scheming took over, and slowly but surely, we all returned to our own huddled masses. Clearly the Fab Five enjoyed our company, but it was as if they viewed us as having some collective terminal illness, and none of them wanted to get too close because they knew we’d all be dead soon enough.
Despite the cold shoulder, the four of us were feeling pretty damn good about the events of the day. We all understood- even Marsha- that there was a short kill list and we were all on it. It didn’t matter who was the first to go because after that person was gone, the rest of us would be picked off one by one. With today’s decisive win, we had at least bought ourselves another two days.
Over the next couple of days, Kyle and I continued our beachside chats. He was quickly becoming my obsession, and I found myself keeping tabs on him wherever he went. Instead of focusing on my game play, I spent the majority of my day fantasizing about our life together after the show. I had it so bad. I’d already named our children (Blake and Madison) and our dog (Barkley). Yep, I was teetering on creepy girl territory and feared it wouldn’t be long before I was snipping locks of his hair for safekeeping.
This particular morning, I was sitting on the beach alone, applying liberal amounts of sunscreen to my peeling, sunburnt skin. It was one of the only luxuries we were allowed out here, and I lathered myself in its store-bought extravagance. I stared at my crimson flesh, wondering if it might ever turn into the beautiful tan Kyle sported. Some patches were actually bronzing up, making me hopeful that eventually everything would even out.
Of course, in a nod to my stalker mentality, my beach bum boy crush was not far away. In fact, I was watching his adorable self on the beach with Summer, Aisha, Bobby, and Marsha, taking part in the morning yoga class. He’d tried to talk me into it, but I had no interest in doing downward-facing dog in front of a nationwide audience. If cameras added ten pounds, I had no doubt every one of them would congregate on my ass.
Kyle smiled at me from his pretzel pose. I waved at him, but as he attempted to return the friendly gesture, he ungracefully tipped over. Even Summer, in her heightened state of Zen, couldn’t suppress a smile. I laughed joyfully at his carefree antics. I couldn’t ever remember being so lighthearted and happy. All the stresses of the normal world just melted away out here. And I credited Kyle with my newfound sunny disposition. His zest for life was contagious, and so endearing. I loved that he seemed up for anything. Uugghh. There I go again. Soon I would be naming our cat.
After the hour was up, Kyle took a dip in the ocean and then came ambling up the beach toward me, looking stiff and uncomfortable, his face contorted in a strange grimace. I felt the fluttering in my chest as he drew near. I imagined him wrapping me in a hug as he lifted me off the sand, spun me around, and kissed me in a display of loving devotion. Instead, my little fantasy zipped to an abrupt end when Kyle halted in front of me and squirted a mouthful of salty ocean water directly in my face.
“Kyle!” I screeched, standing there in complete and utter shock as water slid down my forehead into my eyes, stinging them something fierce.
His laughter was cut short as he caught sight of my murderous expre
ssion. I struggled to rub the acid wash sensation from my eyes, all the while attempting to kick and punch him in retaliation. He easily avoided my assault by taking one giant step back, and since I couldn’t see a damn thing, he was fairly safe where he stood.
“Grow up,” I hissed. “I’m blind, thanks to you.”
“Oh, geez, I’m sorry,” he said, failing to suppress his smile. Kyle reached out to help me wipe the water off my cheeks, but I slapped his hand away. He’d ruined my romantic daydream, and I wasn’t ready to accept his barely-there apology.
“I wasn’t aiming for your eyes.”
“Oh, really? You just squirted me straight in the face! Where did you think my eyes were?”
“I… somewhere else,” he answered feebly.
I pushed him, and he actually laughed.
“Sorry,” Kyle said, and then wrapped me in a hug and gave me raspberries on my neck until I giggled my acceptance of his apology. Damn, he was hard to stay mad at! And why, after spending some quality time in his arms, would I have welcomed another mouthful of salt water in my face?
As we headed back up the beach, I offered some helpful advice: “Your yoga skills suck, by the way.”
“I’m aware. That shit’s actually way harder than it looks. My muscles are killing me.”
“Oh, yeah? I wasn’t aware you had any.” There you go, Kenzie. Hit him where it hurts.
“I do. I have one in particular I’d like to show you later,” he offered suggestively.
“I’ll pass,” I said, forcing myself to sound uninterested, when we all knew I’d welcome the show and tell.
“I guess I have to stop making fun of yoga now,” he conceded. “That shit is legit. Maybe I’ll become a guru or something.”
“I could see that.”
“So back on the beach, while I was all folded up like a decorative napkin, I started thinking,” he began.
“Uh-oh. That’s never a good thing.”
“I know, dangerous, right? Anyway, we call the others the Fab Five,” Kyle said, flashing me an unimpressed scowl. “I figure we need some catchy tagline too.”