Page 15 of Scarred By Love

Several more hours slipped by before a noise caught my attention. Before I could lift my head to see what was going on, Graham was hissing at me to “keep my head down."

I had no problem listening this time. I was a “learn once” kinda gal.

"Hello?" An old man's voice traveled through the air. A very American voice. Graham lifted himself up and the old man gasped. "Geez, son. How long ya been floating in that thing?"

"Most of the day," Graham croaked.

I kept my head down and waited for Graham to give me the okay.

"Here, son. Let me get you some water."

The mention of water almost had me jumping up and announcing my presence.

Almost, but I managed to stop myself.

I watched like a desperate person walking through the desert as Graham took slow slips from the plastic bottle. Thankfully he didn't make me wait long before passing the bottle to me. The crinkle of the plastic in my hands was the best sound I had heard in a long time.

"Not too fast," Graham reminded me.

"You got somebody else there with ya?" the gentleman asked and I froze with the bottle halfway to my lips. I waited to see how Graham was going to respond.

He looked at me while he answered. "Yeah."

I breathed out a sigh of relief. There was no way Graham would do anything to put us further in danger, so that must mean the old man was trustworthy.

"How about I help ya both back to the island?"

I tensed at the mention of an island. Did that mean we weren't back in the States? Where were we? And who exactly was on this island?

Before the plane crash, I thought I was a cautious person, but that was nothing compared to now. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I would have an even harder time trusting people from here on out.

"I would prefer if we stayed in our own boat. You understand." Graham left no room for argument and the old man must've seen that because he was quick to agree.

"Ain't no problem. I'll just get ya hooked up and tow ya back."

That explanation seemed to appease Graham. Or so I thought, until he spoke to me again. "Don't get up no matter what."

I wanted to ask why but kept my mouth shut. I might never trust other people, but I would trust Graham with my life. A shared tragedy tended to do that to a person.

I lay perfectly still as Graham tied a worn rope to one of the handles. I wasn't so sure it would hold up but at least someone knew where we were. It was better than the position we had been in just an hour before.

The ride to the island was bumpy and the cool salty air stung against my burned flesh. But I was alive and that was all that mattered. When we docked a while later, I waited for Graham to give me the okay that I could sit up, and I got my first look at the gentleman who helped us. He was as old as I would've guessed based on his raspy voice.

"What island is this?" Graham asked as he helped me out of the boat onto a large dock filled with fishing boats. This was nosmall island and I was relieved to see so many people milling around.

"Kodiak Island." The gentleman sounded proud of the area and I could understand why. It was a beautiful sight.

"Alaska?"

"That's right, son."

That was a relief. At least we were back in the States. I didn't even want to think about the logistics of being outside the country when my passport and license were probably on the bottom of the Pacific by now.

"Could I bother you for a phone?" Graham asked.

"I can do that, but how about I take ya back to my place? Get ya out of those clothes and into something a little less"—the old man wrinkled his nose—"stinky. Get ya a shower and maybe even some food. Yer girl here looks like she could use a little aloe for those burns as well."

I tried not to think about how bad I smelled. I figured it had to be pretty bad considering I could no longer smell it. I breathed out a sigh of relief when Graham agreed. A shower, food, and aloe sounded like heaven at the moment. Although it might need to be a cold shower considering how red my body was.

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