“Hey, I found the hatch,” I tell her.
I walk through the mix of grass and sand until I come to a squat, low concrete building surrounded by frangipani flowers. The door is missing on this one. Beyond it I see another, smaller concrete block.
I go in the bigger one first. There’s dirt inside, covering up what used to be the floor, and vines are growing up the walls. In the middle are a bunch of tables and steel chairs. On the walls, covered by the overgrowing foliage, are old charts and maps. A relic of a printer sits in the corner, gathering dust.
“What is it?” Daisy asks, poking her head in.
“I dunno. Could be an old research station. This place definitely isn’t a resort.”
“Whatever it is, it hasn’t been used in forever. Guess they don’t have a phone or internet, huh?”
I look around. There’s a stack of brown papers beside an old-fashioned calculator. It’s impossible to read what’s printed on them, but there’s a faded stamp in the corner that reads Nature something or other.
“I think maybe this island was used as a protected wildlife area,” I tell her, turning around. “But whoever was stationed here has been gone a long, long time.”
We step back outside, and I head over to the other building.
Turns out to be a shower block and toilet. Both not up to anyone’s standards.
“Don’t even bother,” I tell Daisy as I come back out.
“No toilet paper?” she asks, her eyes dancing.
I’m never going to live that down, am I?
“For your information, I’m completely fine now,” I tell her. “Just a little…”
“Raw?”
“Shut up.”
I was going to say embarrassed.
She giggles and I do my best to ignore her.
We both look across at the lagoon. It really is stunning here, like a completely different ecosystem than the other side. The water is so clear and so shallow, it looks like you can walk across it to all the islands. Or at least it would be an easy swim. I wish I hadn’t left my binoculars back at camp, I’m curious to see if there are any remnants of buildings on the other islands, though at first glance there don’t seem to be any. This place not only looks deserted, it feels deserted, too.
“So I guess we go back and tell the newlyweds to pack up,” I tell her.
“You really want us to move here?”
“We’ve got shelter, we’ve got a fresh-water stream, and there seems to be a rainwater catchment on top of the old shower block. I think we’re better off here, more protected from any storm surges or the like.”
Though to be honest, I feel weird about leaving the Atarangi where she is. Not that she’s going anywhere, but I feel like I’m abandoning her when she needs me, as silly as that seems. Maybe if I can just get Daisy, Lacey, and Richard over here, I can stay at the other camp…might be better having Daisy at more of a distance, too.
Though, even if that’s what I need, it’s not what I want.
We head back to camp, following the stream back to the waterfall, then the compass guides us the rest of the way. By the time we make it to the other side of the island, it seems like we’ve been gone most of the day.
“Where have you guys been?” Lacey cries out as we stumble out of the jungle and onto the sand.
“I was going to send out a search party,” Richard says. “Consisting of Lacey.”
We fill them in on what we found, from the waterfall and pool, to the stream, to the abandoned research station.
“So the desert island becomes the deserted island,” Richard muses. “Nice twist.”
“Not very helpful for us if it’s uninhabited,” Lacey points out. “What kind of research is it?”
“Not too sure. Something to do with nature. Maybe marine, maybe bird, maybe insects.”
“Maybe it’s like the Island of Dr. Moreau,” Richard says.
“More like the Island of Dr. Boner,” Daisy says, biting back a smile.
Lacey puts her hands on her hips and gives her sister a look. “It’s Bon-Air. Okay? Doctor Bon-Air. It’s derived from the phrase “de bonne aire,” literally meaning of handsome or of good bearing.”
I stare at Richard, who right now does not look of very good bearing.
“Is that what he promised you?” I say to Lacey, unable to stay out of it.
Lacey flinches like I slapped her. “What? It’s true.”
I glance at Richard, brow raised. “Hey Dick, you want to tell her the truth about her new last name?”
His skin seems to pale before my eyes, and he adjusts his broken glasses. Clears his throat.
“Richard?” Lacey asks imploringly. “Tell me he’s wrong.”
He looks at her, chin raised. “Remember when you lied to me about having to wear glasses?” he says.
She blinks at him.
Shit’s about to go down.
I glance over at Daisy. “Hey, I’m hungry, you hungry?”
I motion over to the fire and she giggles as we quickly walk over there, leaving the newlyweds to start on the second epic fight of this island.
“Island of Dr. Boner,” I say to her. “I like where your mind is at. Filled with cocks.”
“Hey, you’ve seen the island’s shape,” she says. “Besides, you’re the one who had your cock out today.”
“You peeked?”
She blushes, looking away. “I didn’t. But now I wish I did, just to hold it over you.”
“Oh, you can hold it all right. You did such a good job before.”
She bites her lip in such a way that I’m immediately brought back to that moment on the boat when I caught her getting off.
Fuck, I have got to stop thinking like this.
I have to stop flirting like this, too.
Even though it’s painful to stop.
I give her a quick smile, trying to put a bit of distance between us.
“So, lunch,” I tell her, rather awkwardly.
She watches me for a moment, really studying my face, and I can’t ignore the flash of disappointment on hers. Then she manages a fake smile. “Let’s go get some beans.”
* * *
I automatically wake up just before sunrise.
Atarangi.
Always for Atarangi.
It’s still dark when I get up off the sleeping bag, careful not to step on anyone. Richard and Lacey are snoring, but even without earplugs, I don’t really hear them anymore. They’ve turned into white noise machines.
I glance over at Daisy, who is on her side, back to me. I watch her for a few moments. She looks especially tiny all curled up like that and I’m struck by this irrepressible urge to protect her. Not just in the way I’ve felt all along, as a captain, but as something more than that. I want to shield her from whatever dangers might lurk on this island, but I also want to shield her heart from any more sorrow. She’s been dealt a shit hand lately, losing her job, her dickface ex, this whole being shipwrecked thing.
I want her to be happy.
Which is why it’s better she doesn’t get involved with you. You’re a mess. You live in New Zealand and she lives in America. Even if you did give in to her, you know there’d be nothing beyond it.
The thoughts are pessimistic, but they’re true. No use denying them.
I ignore the sour feeling in my chest, and head out across the sand. I sit down near the water, watching the sun rise, coloring the sky behind Atarangi into shades of lavender and orchid. The morning has a purple tone, washing the lagoon with a lilac tint.
Every sunrise has meaning. Every sunrise is a chance to start again.
These days, it’s the only thing I have to count on.
After our expedition to the abandoned research station yesterday, we decided to wait until today to move there. It took a long time for Richard and Lacey to stop fighting after she found out her last name was actually Boner, not Bon-Air. Lacey Boner does have a certain ring to it, though.
There’s part of me that wa
nts to stay behind here, so I figure I’ll come back later. I’ll probably sleep here at night. Just hope none of them take offense to that.
When I’m done watching the sunrise, I start lighting the fire for our breakfast, expecting to see Daisy again. When she doesn’t show, I can’t help but feel disappointed. Maybe she’s decided to stay away.
It’s for the best.
Eventually everyone gets up, we eat, taking our time to get ready for the day, then we all go about packing up our stuff for the journey across the island.
“What are you doing?” I ask Daisy, who keeps darting in and out of the forest with sticks and palm fronds.
“I’m creating a new sign,” she says. “Since I have to pack up my shit and what not.”
“Don’t forget your vibrator,” I yell at her.
She gives me a dirty look.
The trek inland takes longer this time, with Richard only able to see out of one eye and stumbling every couple of minutes, doing his best Jerry Lewis impersonation. Everyone is tired and hot from carrying their gear, and the mosquitos are out in full force. Plus, Lacey feels like she has to stop and identify every single plant she comes across, from guava (which we pile into our bags to eat later), to weeds with antiseptic and antibacterial properties. Naturally, she takes samples of those too.
Finally, we come to the waterfall.
The payoff is worth it.
This time we have soap and shampoo with us, so everyone jumps in the pool and cleans the hell out of themselves, myself included, then we proceed to do some laundry as well so we can dry it out on the beach later. After ten days at sea and a few days shipwrecked, we all need it.
We even manage to have lunch at the pool, just some crackers and dried fruit. Richard tries his hand at fishing after Daisy told him about the mystery fish, but we don’t have any bait. I tell them I’ll look for some clams later in the ocean and see what we can do. Fresh caught fish over an open flame would be a good way to welcome in our (temporary) life at the new camp.
When we finally get to the bungalows, everyone is exhausted. We have just enough energy to dry things out on the beach, choose beds, and explore a little.
“I’ve never seen so many different types of plumeria in one place,” Lacey marvels, as she touches the frangipani (which is what we call it in New Zealand).
“I thought you hated flowers,” Daisy says to her.
Lacey gives her a disgruntled look. “I never said that.”
“You never said that, but you purposely used zero flowers at the wedding. Which was weird, but you know, you’re a plant person.”
“I used to grow roses, remember?” she says.
“So it has nothing to do with my name being Daisy? A flower?”
Lacey rolls her eyes. “Oh my god. You would think that, wouldn’t you?”
“How could I not?”
Ah, fuck. The sisters are about to go at it again. Every day there’s a different fight. Maybe everyone sleeping in one building isn’t the best idea.
I glance at Richard to exchange an oh boy look with him, but he’s staring over my shoulder in shock.
It’s probably that damn goat, I think, turning around.
Nope.
It’s a man.
“Hello there,” the man says.
All four of us jump at once. Lacey screams.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you,” he says in an American accent, holding his hands out as if to calm us. “I was curious about the castaways and here you are. The name is Fred, by the way. Fred Ferguson.”
Fred Ferguson’s a short guy, paunchy, with a bushy white mustache, balding grey hair at the top. He’s got big reflective sunglasses that look straight out of the ‘80s, wearing a dirt-stained T-shirt that says “Beer Me” and red cargo shorts. No shoes.
“Hello Fred,” I say warily. “Where did you come from?”
So suddenly, into our lives.
Fred chuckles and gestures behind him. “Got a dinghy on the other side of those palms. Down the beach. Came from over there.” He points far across the lagoon to one of the longer islands. “Noticed the two of you yesterday, looking about.” Nods at me and Daisy. “Heard about your boat. My condolences.”
“How did you know about the boat?” I ask.
“Not much to do out here except count bird eggs and listen to the radio, and the birds ain’t laying right now.”
“Are you a scientist?” Richard asks. A good question, because he doesn’t seem like a scientist.
Fred nods. Puts his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “Yep. Been stationed here for about, well let’s see…three months now.”
“Three months!” Lacey exclaims.
“All alone too,” he says. “Hope you fellas don’t blame me, but when I picked up the transmission that a yacht had wrecked on the reefs, I was grateful for the company. Been by my lonesome an awful long time.”
“Don’t they usually station you with another researcher?” Richard asks.
“They had. Dale was his name. Good guy. Smelled like garlic. But his wife was pregnant, went into labor two months early. He had to go back. Wife and babe are doing fine now, no worries there, but he’s not coming back and they haven’t found a suitable replacement. I’m staying on until the next batch of researchers come over. Should be a few weeks from now, but they’ve been saying that awhile.” He pauses, squints at us. “You guys have any beer?”
“I wish,” Daisy says.
He looks deflated. “Shucks. I could really go for a Rolling Rock about now.”
“Who are you working for?” Lacey asks.
“Nature Conservancy,” he says. “They’re working with the Fijian government to try and study the population of the sulphur-crested myzomela here, after rats were eradicated a few years ago.”
“And where is here?” I ask. “There’s no name on the charts.”
“Here is Plumeria Island. And this whole area,” he gestures wide to the lagoon, “is the Plumeria Atoll.”
“I knew it!” Lacey cries out. We all look at each other. She shrugs. “Well, I knew that the species of plumeria were notable.”
Daisy is shaking her head and I know she’s doubling down on Boner Island in her mind.
“So, what’s this?” I gesture to the barracks.
“Back in the day they were studying all sorts of things. This place was never inhabited, so, aside from rats that escaped from boats, the atoll has a lot to offer in terms of wildlife.”
“Well, how do you explain that?” Daisy says dramatically, pointing at the goat that has come wandering up from behind Fred. The goat stands beside him like a dog.
“You mean Wilson? No idea how he got here. Though he says he’s been here quite some time.” Fred looks down at the goat. The goat looks right back at him.
I frown, worried that perhaps Fred has been in the sun too long. “I’m sorry. You said the goat told you this?”
“Yep,” Fred says, reaching down and patting Wilson on the head. “We get along just fine.”
“What else has the goat told you?” Daisy asks suspiciously.
“Uh, sorry to be direct, Fred,” I say to him, interrupting Daisy (because who knows where that conversation was going), “but is there a way you can put in a rescue call for us? We’re supposed to call the search and rescue back from our satellite phone, but maybe you have better connections, and a better connection.”
“Of course,” he says, though he does look a little disappointed. He gestures behind him. “My dinghy can take two of you over with me. I’ve got a nice bungalow. Flush toilet.”
“Flush toilet!” Daisy exclaims, like she was told he had Oscar Isaac chilling over there or something.
“We would love to see the research you’re doing,” Lacey speaks up, sticking her thumb at Richard. “And help in any way. We’re both botanists at the University of Otago.”
“Are ya now?” Fred says, stroking his mustache. “That is interesting. And most welcome, of course.” He
glances at me and Daisy. “You two don’t mind? I can come back for you later.”
“Don’t worry about us,” I tell him. “We’ll be fine.”
Fred, Lacey, and Richard wave, and then disappear behind the coconuts.
Wilson stays where he is.
Staring at us.
“Why did you do that?” Daisy moans dramatically. “Flush toilets, Tai!”
“Relax,” I tell her. “You’d rather hang out with Fred “The Goatman” Ferguson than me?”
“I’d rather use a toilet and actual toilet paper than hang out with you.”
“Fair enough.”
But secretly I’m pleased she has to stay.
Which bodes well for no one.
Fifteen
Daisy
Daisy’s Log: Day…what are days?
Dear Diary,
It’s been awhile since I’ve written in you. I guess there’s no point in doing a recap, because I’m just talking to myself and I know what the recap would be, even though it’s future Daisy who will read this, but there’s no way in hell that future Daisy will ever forget the last few days. Still, if I ever have to write a memoir based on my time here, this will be my fact-checker.
But anyway, to recap, the boat reefed (my fault, legally), and we swam to shore and Tai contacted the rescue people and they were all like chill out man, we’ll get to you when we get to you, and then Tai and I went exploring and swimming and I kissed him and I shouldn’t have and now things are weird between us.
Oh, and I learned he was married. How crazy is that? I really didn’t expect it. Not that people need to talk about their exes—though lord, I know I talked enough about mine—but you’d think it would have come up in conversation. Even Lacey didn’t mention it, then again she barely wanted to tell me about his sister. Next I’ll find out he’s a secret agent or something. Definitely has the body for it.
Now we’re living in what he calls the barracks, which is this old research station. The Goatman, a scientist (not an actual goat man), lives across the lagoon (we’re on the south side of the island now). Yesterday he took Lacey and Richard to visit his digs on some other island. When they came back, they said that he placed a call for help and that we’ll get rescued in two days! Yay!! They also brought some supplies that Goatman gave them, like an extra sleeping bag and pillow, towels, and some cooking stuff. Just watch them hog it all for themselves.
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