Page 44 of Totally Wrecked
REX
After a breakfast of spring water and chewy seaweed, Gray and I commandeer the shoes and set off on our trek. I force down the worry I feel about Keyara, and just focus on the job in hand—finding her.
No matter what, I will find her.
So far we’ve been walking about thirty minutes, and it’s no fun at all. Flies are swarming and the humidity is off the hook. The further away from the beach we get, the denser the cloud of midges becomes. The air is thick, and we are sweating constantly. Gray and I are not speaking; we know to save our energy. Anyway, if you open your mouth, the flies get in.
‘You catch flies with honey, Rexie-boy. Not vinegar.’
Growing up, I had a temper—I guess I still do.
Meemaw had a proverb for everything, and liked to quote a folksy phrase, when talking me down from my rages.
I wonder what her proverb would be for this particular situation. Maybe,‘Living is like licking honey off a thorn’.
Other kids made fun of the fact I lived with my grandparents. They had mom’s and dad’s who looked young, and did cool things, and didn’t use walkers.
Pops had used a walker because of his scoliosis. Meemaw was white-haired and stooped nearly as much, but that didn’t matter one iota. I loved them hard, and they loved me back even harder.
That did a lot to make up for my parents. Dad is a career military man. In a very out-of-character move, he got my mom pregnant when she was eighteen and he was twenty-three. Dad was working his way up the military police ladder, and not interested in being a parent. My mom ditched me as soon as I was born, so Dad handed me over to Meemaw and Pops. The rest is history.
My father did come to hospital after the incident, but I’m sure it was duty that brought him, not love.
Colonel Thomas “Tough Love” Malone—my dad—pities no fools, and a lot of the time he thinks that I, his only son, is the biggest fool there is. Especially when I became a wildland firefighter instead of joining the military.“You gonna be a slacker forever?”
There was nothing slack about my job, but it’s true it doesn’t have the rigidity of the military—that’s what attracted me to it. After a hard day digging trenches or running hoses, the crew would relax with a beer and a joint. Nothing wrong with that in most people’s eyes, but Tough Love found everything wrong with it.
He blamed his parents for being too soft on me. They weren’t soft; they were loving.
Gray never teased me about having old “parents”. He loved coming over after school and being greeted with warm cookies straight from the oven. He’d also proudly wear the hand-knit sweaters Meemaw gave him for Christmas.
Usually, it was the only Christmas gift he got.
I look over my shoulder at my friend, and he gives me a short nod. He’s OK. After years working on a fire line, we don’t need words any more. It’s going to be different having Killian and Harvey in the crew. I can’t expect them to just understand, follow instructions, and work as a team. There’s going to be a learning curve.
Harvey seems entitled, but I know I need to give him the benefit of the doubt. Exactly what my father never gave me. Harvey has obviously never had to step up before, and as Meemaw always said,“Necessity sharpens industry.”
“To the right,” Gray calls out. I stop and look. Through the trees is a steep rock-face. We move towards it, and see that the rock face goes both ways. It stretches about forty feet up—not too high. It’s dotted with shelves and ledges, making it good for climbing.
“Should be easy enough,” I say, even though this kind of rock climbing has been more challenging since I lost my two fingers. “Is your head OK?”
“Totally fine.”
I don’t buy it, but what can I say? I watch as Gray takes his time to test handholds and footholds before ascending. For a big guy, he’s agile as fuck. He’ll be fine as long as he doesn’t get an attack of vertigo.
“It’s solid,” he calls down after ascending fifteen feet. “Follow my lead.”
After twenty minutes, we get above the tree canopy and to the top of the cliff. I heave myself up a final ledge and flop down on a flat, gently angled slab, right next to Gray.
“Unexpected,” says Gray.
“Hmmm.” The island we are on is small. It’s hard to tell how small, but my guess is maybe a couple of miles across. From out vantage point, we can see pretty much see the whole fucking island. We can also see another, bigger island across a stretch of ocean.
“Think there are people over there?”
It’s hard to tell. It certainly doesn’t look likethispile of rock is inhabited. It’s jungle, and rocks, and more jungle.
Looking back the way we came, I can see our small cove. There are waves breaking over the rocks at each end of the beach. Further south is sheer rock face all the way down to the water. Three quarters of the island perimeter seemed to just have sheer rocky cliffs separating jungle from ocean, but there are a couple of other beaches dotted here and there.
