Page 52 of Totally Wrecked
“That thin stuff dissipates before it even gets high enough for them to see,” I tell him. “We need an obnoxious amount of smoke.”
I chew down the last of the coconut then get up to start collecting shit to burn.
“Does anyone have any idea what time it is?” asks Harvey as he continues picking at his fish.
“I’d guess mid-afternoon,” Rex tells him after squinting at the sun.
Not much daylight left—three hours, tops. I’ve gotta get the signal going. Got to let rescue know where we are. Got to let the others know where we are.
As Killian helps me gather firewood and greenery, he’s all yakkity-yak about who the fuck knows. The dude is a regular Chatty Cathy. Personally, I don’t like to use a lot of words to convey nothing of substance. But in these circumstances, I find his nonsense comforting. Killian stops me from dwelling in the dark places in my brain.
I look up at Killian as he talks about his mom, and her love of Tom Hanks. He meets my eye and grins. I realize he knows exactly what he’s doing.
He’s saving my sanity, one inane conversation at a time.
I’m truly grateful.
Let me know how I can return the favor, Killian. You got my back? Then you can bet that I’ll have yours.
DAISY
We have coconuts and lychee, and we have fresh water. But what we really need is some protein and another load of firewood. The fire went out last night, due to lack of fuel.
“I’m going to sharpen a stick—see if I can do some spearfishing,” Leander says, holding the multi-tool in one hand and scratching a bite on his chest with the other. “Why don’t you two check on the shoreline and see if anything useful has washed up.”
I nod and smile. For all Leander’s playfulness, it seems he can also be a take-charge kinda guy. “We’ll do that and collect driftwood for the fire at the same time.”
“Perfect. Be careful, and yell if you need me.”
I watch him wander down the beach, his long, tan legs are so graceful—lissom.
Last summer, I was readingCharlotte’s Webto my Wednesday book club and the word lissom came up. The kids didn’t know the word.
Lissom: flexible, graceful of movement, quick and light in action.
Good luck with the fishing, lissom Leander.
Keyara and I hold hands as we trudge down to the water's edge and start to glean. There is a depressingly large amount of trash entangled with all the weed. Depressing for the planet, but probably good for us though. I find a long stick for Keyara to poke through the seaweed with. “Be careful of standing on anything sharp, we don’t want to get cut,” I tell her.
She gives a serious nod. I can’t believe she is only nine. The kids who come to my Saturday club are all eight or nine, and not half as resourceful and together as Keyara.
“A buoy,” shouts Keyara, as we both pick through the brown weed piles.
“I’ve got a coke can!”
We also find a length of blue plastic tarp. That’s gonna be really handy. I pull the tarp, and watch as it breaks the surface of the wet sand. Snagged on the end is, amazingly, a rusty fish hook.
“Key, look!”
Yes!
A larger plastic container is further along the shore, so I grab that and put the various treasures we find inside, being careful not to puncture my fingers on the hook. Tetanus out here would not be good. Keyara takes the buoy and the tarp over to our camp.
The sun is beating down and I can already feel myself getting burned. I head off to the aloe bush and break off a long spiky leaf. The gel inside is cool and smoothing. I make sure to cover Keyara first, and she sighs as I rub the gel on her face and shoulders.
“I’m hungry, Daisy.”
“Me too. I’ll start planning our next meal.”
