Page 255 of Storm over the Caribbean
…if ever, for some reason, we went on a second honeymoon, I would make certain it would not be on a Caribbean island.
“Oh, and…” Moving beside me, she snuggled up to me and brushed a kiss against my cheek. “After dinner, I’ll help you outside so we can enjoy the beautiful sunset and have some…‘private time’.”
On the other hand, the Caribbean had its positive points.
Time passed excruciatingly slowly. No matter how well my wife was taking care of me, I was still stuck in a cave without any work to do or any money to earn. It was quite literally my definition of hell. And then there was the thing that made it worse than hell.
“Rise and shine, Dicky Darling! Breakfast is ready!”
Yes, that.
Just like this, day after day went by. At long last, the symptoms of whatever poison I had ingested began to subside. The tremors in my muscles faded, strength returned to my limbs and, most importantly of all, I wasfinallyable to take over cooking duty.
“Hm…” Licking her lips, my wife took another big bite of the fish I had painstakingly prepared, and which she had snatched from my hands as soon as it was done. “Dish ish delicious!”
Checking on the second fish roasting above the fire, I determined it was nearly finished. “Compared to the last few days’ menu?” I cast a glance at the corner of the cave where a pile of unspeakable fish remains were buried under a layer of leaves and earth. “Indeed, Mrs Ambrose.”
“Oy!” Eyes narrowed, she waved her fish at me. Reaching up, I carefully wiped off some meat juice that had landed on my face. “I did my besht!”
“That, Mrs Ambrose, is what concerns me.”
I ducked my head. A wise decision as it turned out when, a moment later, a fish bone sailed by above my scalp. When I righted myself, I found my wife glaring at me.
“For that,” she informed me, stabbing a threatening finger at my face, “you owe me another roasted fish!”
That almost made me raise an eyebrow. Almost. “A fish in exchange for a fishbone?”
My wife, not sharing my aversion to the horrific waste of time called “facial expressions”, cocked one of hers. “I’m your wife. You didn’t think I’d pick up a thing or two?”
For a moment, I considered that—then inclined my head in acknowledgement and reached out to hand her a second fish.
My recuperation continued at a crawling pace. By the time I was up on my feet again, the fish in the nearby pond had all ended in our stomachs. We urgently needed an alternative food source. As luck would have it, the pond presented an opportunity.
“Are you sure this is going to work?” My wife whispered beside me, peering into the clearing ahead from the underbrush.
“Are you sure you wish to eat Fruit Surprise tomorrow?”
Because I for one would not. Leaving my wife to fend for herself once was already a mistake. I did not plan on repeating it.
She pulled a face. “Good point. But if you knew this would work, why didn’t we do this before?”
Because I could not go on a hunt for potentially dangerous beasts with a pregnant wife in tow while there was still any other choice.
Thanks to my well-developed instincts for self-preservation, I did not say this sentence out loud. Instead, I said something equally true.
“Because, before, we were just wandering aimlessly through the forest. Just wandering through an unfamiliar forest looking for animals is a fool’s errand. But this…” Pushing a branch aside, I pointed to the bait in my trap: a familiar pond, now nearly devoid of fishes, but still filled to the brim with fresh water. “This is far more efficient.”
She opened her mouth—probably to argue the point, if I knew her as well as I thought I did—then closed it again when some medium-sized animal of an unfamiliar breed stepped out of the underbrush and approached the pond.
“You see?” Lowering my voice till it was no more than a whisper, I pointed ahead. “All living things need to drink. A simple and efficient plan.”
Which I had come up with after she had told me how she had followed her new pet dog to this watering hole. Not that I was going to tell her that.
She might have said something in response to my words, but I didn’t listen. Instead, I stiffened as I heard more footfalls approaching.
“What is it?” whispered my wife, who seemed to have noticed something.
“Shh!” I raised a finger to my lips. “Quiet!”
