Marooned (Closed)

Joe etched a corner of the oyster shell into the trunk of the palm tree until he was able to form a line about two inches long. The line stood out amongst the other cuts he had made - specifically, four straight lines and one crossing through the others in the standard method of marking off a group of five. There were four of those groupings, making up a count of twenty. And the extra is twenty-one.

With a deep breath, Joe stepped back from his work and let that soak in.

Twenty-one days! Twenty … fucking … one … fucking … days.

Twenty-one days of sand crabs nipping at his feet at night. Twenty-one days of gnats circling his head. Twenty-one days of rations of spam and canned whatever that floated to shore. Of mornings spent scavenging for firewood, afternoons trying to stay out of the burning sun, evenings trying to catch a fish by hand. Twenty-one days of having the sole focus of surviving. It was like one of those crappy survivor shows Joe’s girlfriend always made him watch - except there were no film crews dumping tools for playing some random game or eating something gross. The tools were whatever washed ashore either after the wreck or sometime over the course of human history. But thank goodness for that show, otherwise he wouldn’t have known to do anything at all. At least he was smart enough to find a source of water and get a fire started - that only takes you so far. Ten days in, he was already pissed he called all those boy scouts in school a bunch of pussies. If he would have done that, at least he may known how to make a decent shelter, not the shit they’ve got. But it wasn’t like he expected this to happen.

Twenty-one days ago, he woke up to the sound of a horn blowing, and only seemed to have time to drag on shorts without boxers & a button down shirt. He was on one of those South Pacific cruises, a deal he picked-up by luck, and intended to spend the whole of it drunk or getting laid. Within thirty minutes of that horn going off, he was in a lifeboat and the cruise ship was disappearing under the water. It went so quick, the lifeboat only had the two of them on it. Who knows how many others made it, too dark to tell, too crazy to understand. By the sun began to peak above the horizon, the island was within sight. By afternoon they were ashore, and just assumed that by nightfall a rescue plane or boat would be on the way.

By Day Two, they were sure it would be a matter of hours.

By Day Four, he wished he would have put on boxers before he left the boat. Not to mention grab about three more changes of clothes. Grabbed a knife, a lighter, and rope. Not to mention a radio, satellite phone, flare gun, or something that screams ‘we are right fucking here’.

By Day Five, they made the help signs out of rocks and branches.

By Day Nine, he was convincing himself that there was still hope they would be found.

By Day Eighteen, he was getting tired of lying to himself.

Now it’s Day Twenty-One.

His khaki shorts were growing stiff from their constant wear without a good soapy wash. His shirt, which he usually left unbutton during the day, hung loosely on his thinning frame. The twenty-one day tropic diet of scant food, survival needful exercise, and adjusting to the creepy water through disgusting sickness, had the benefit of tightening up his softer frame to start forming real abs. His darker hair turned sandy in the sun to match his ever growing darker tan, especially now all the sun burns have peeled away. Twenty-one days has changed him. Tore back layers of him to leave whatever the hell was left behind. Problem was, it became clear that nothing was going to change just because he carved that twenty-first mark on the tree.

Then again, it could be worse. He could be dead. He could be alone.

Then again, fuck that. He could be home and not picking branches out of his skanky ass.

Lily had really not wanted to take a vacation, much less a vacation on a ship. Oh, not that she would get sea sick or anything stupid like that. It just wasn't her. Vegas was more her style. New York City was more her style. So when people that claimed to be her friends purchased this gift for her, she had been tempted to say thanks but no thanks and cash the ticket in, trading it for something more her.

Shit! She should have done it. That way she would be where civilization was, instead of this hell hole with Mr. "It looked easier on TV". Oh, there was a television show about being stuck on a deserted island with some guy and half a million coconuts? And she missed it? Oh, no, what do do now?

The bed on the ship had been passable (at least better than what they had now) and she had been almost asleep when the horn had sounded. It had taken her a moment to remember where she was before she had slipped out of the nightgown and into the dress she had laid aside to wear tomorrow. No underwear, just a mid-calf length sundress and sandals. It was the middle of the night and she hadn't been thinking straight.

She turned up topside wearing her life jacket like they had told them at run through. Her boat was already gone so they rushed her to the other side and stuck her in with Mr. Robinson Crusoe himself. They kept waiting for more people but suddenly the lifeboat was lowered and they were set adrift in the water, watching the ship sink.

The night eventually became quiet save for the lapping of waves against the little life raft, or something splashing out of the water. She had visions of some shark following along, just waiting to eat then up (hmmm, tastes like chicken). By mid morning they were washing up on this island. Welcome to Crap Island. Where none of your dreams are fulfilled.

She had been pretty sure that the search planes would soon be coming for them. And though it wasn't one of the big major cruise ships, surely it would be missed and planes and ships would be sent out looking for survivors.

Instead, each day brought sand. And sun. And sea. And coconuts. And Joe. He was a guy! Wasn't he suppose to know all this useless stuff that would come in handy out on a wild mountainside, or stuck on a deserted island?

The sun had been hot, the "fresh" water crappy, and the sand fleas down right irritating. And her nemesis on the island was starting to stink and she couldn't figure out if it was his skanky clothes or him. Probably both. He had built the shelter mainly himself, and she just knew that a good wind would knock it down the first storm they would have.

Food? Too bad you couldn't eat gnats as there were plenty of them. And coconuts would get old quick. What she wouldn't give for a medium steak and baked potato!

Water? If she had been thinking she would have grabbed a couple of cases of the bottled stuff on the ship. This water was drinkable, but what she wouldn't give for a glass of ice.

She watched Joe carve another notch on the tree. Shit! 21 days of hell. Now what?

“Right, we’re almost out of coconuts. Do you want to get some or should I?”

Joe didn’t immediately hear an answer, so he turned around to regard his fellow castaway. Lily was … well … he knew what the answer really was.

“I’ll go,” he confirmed. He shifted towards the shelter and grabbed a makeshift water bottle fashion from a gourd that had a nasty habit of leaking constantly. “I am going to try to head further the hillside, see if there is anything worth scavenging there. Maybe we will get lucky and there’s some wild fruit trees.” After a long pause he added, trying to be funny, “or maybe a 7-eleven.”

He didn’t expect her to laugh. Laughing isn’t what Lily does. Seems like neither is talking. Seems like neither is being very nice. Asking her to go get coconuts probably wouldn’t have turned out well. It’s not like she doesn’t help out, Joe couldn’t do any of this on his own of course. She was just a bit unreliable. Maybe not that. Maybe just that what she ends up doing isn’t the way he would have thought it would be done. She was a legal … something or other … she told him once, but he kinda forgot what it was she really did. But whatever it was, it wasn’t something that keeps one working on things that take real work.

Joe looked up at the sun, tried to figure out what time of day it was, then realized he had no frickin clue to figure that out by the sun. “I’m going to try to be back no longer than a couple of hours. At least to try to get back before the tides come up and maybe we can catch some fish.” He swatted a few gnats away from his face and looked back at the woman one last time before he left the makeshift camp. The best thing about Lily was she was easy on the eyes. The days of sun and beach helped that a fair bit. Not that he would do anything about that. He had a girlfriend back home. At least he did about a month ago. As the days go by and the longer its been since he seen his girlfriend, Lily looks better and better.

Finally no longer able to procrastinate, he finally said. “Alright, I am off.” Then started to step towards the high ground.

Right, we’re almost out of coconuts. Do you want to get some or should I?

She looked at him, and raised an eyebrow. Sun must have cooked his brain. He turned to look at her and sighed. Maybe he wasn't stupid after all.

I’ll go. I am going to try to head further the hillside, see if there is anything worth scavenging there. Maybe we will get lucky and there’s some wild fruit trees. Or maybe a 7-eleven.

'Sure,' she thought. 'And while you're at it, grab me a cup of ice.' Damn! She would kill for a cup of ice.

Joe, the great explorer, glanced up at the sun, but the look was a cross between confused and vacant.

I’m going to try to be back no longer than a couple of hours. At least to try to get back before the tides come up and maybe we can catch some fish.

We? He was pretty sure of himself, or rather of her. He glanced back at her before he started again to leave.

Alright, I am off.

She watched him leave. 'Go already', she thought. She looked at Joe as he headed up the towards the hillside.

Once he was out of sight, she grabbed a straw hat that she had fashioned and headed down to the water's edge. She started walking along the sand, the surf occasionally washing up and wetting her shoes. She slipped them off and set them up high enough that the tide would not wash them away. No telling how long they would have to last.

As she walked, she kept her eyes scanning the horizon as she looked in the sand. She had found a tin of sardines that way. She hated sardines. But she kept it hidden from old Joe. She may have to use it at a later date as a bribe. Maybe he liked sardines.

She supposed he wasn't that bad, remembering he said something about being 26 or 27 with a girlfriend back home. And he worked in a factory doing something like sweeping floors. Great! Stuck on a deserted island with a custodian. Hey Joe, I've got sand in my shoes. Wonderful!

She picked up a shell and threw it watching it land out in the water. Heading towards a group of rocks, she stopped to watch a seagull flying overhead. She was desperate enough to eat one of those.

Something rolled in the surf up ahead. Excited, she ran up to see what it was. Shoot! One of those big plastic buckets with the metal handles. She thought that they were sometimes used as paint buckets. God! They were everywhere! Well, at least they could use it to carry stuff. Like coconuts?

She picked it up and pried the lid off, rinsing the sand out of it before walking along towards the rocks swinging the bucket. She had learned not to throw away anything.

She reached the rocks. Just big black rocks. But as she peered among them, she saw a tidal pool with grass along the edge of it. There was a plethora of sea life in there.

She had an idea. Grabbing the bucket, she put as much water as she could and still lift it. Setting it carefully in the moist sand, she carefully stood at the very edge of the water. Her eyes, shaded by the hat, suddenly picked out a couple of conch shells

She knew enough to watch her fingers as she picked out the first one and walked over to throw it in the bucket. Back and forth she went until she filled the bucket. Little and big. All sizes of conch. All still containing their creature. She popped back on the lid but didn't close it tight so they could still get air.

Damn! She about broke her back trying to lift it. So she started dragging it back to camp but grew tired too quickly. She couldn't just leave it.

Now that she needed the guy, where was he? She decided to sit and wait. She didn't trust something else eating her find. Off in the distance she could see the camp. She'd see when he got back. She watched the surf.

Tonight, they were having conch!

Tonight, they weren’t having coconuts.

It turns out, the further you head up the hillside, the fewer there were fruit bearing trees. At least not the ones with coconuts on them. Going was tough that way too, as he followed a rockline that seemed to be the best way to remember how to to get down. It would be pretty shitty that once he was out there in the mess that he got so lost he couldn’t get back. While he knew he should turn back at some point, something about this exploration told him to continue. He saw it like any of the other problem solving activities he did - a failure isn’t a failure, only just some variables you can remove from the original question.

It wasn’t that he had gone too far. By his guess, he could be back in 15 minutes tops, but how far is too far when you are striking out.

Things changed when the sound of water reached his ear. When he crested a ridge, he started to become aware of it. Not the sound of waves coming onto the beach, more like the more direct rumble of it coming down rocks. Maybe even some of it coming into a pool. Not that they needed more fresh water, the spring they found on the second day was going to take care of them and it was much closer to camp. But the sound seemed unmistakable for what it could be, and a little glimmer of hope persisted.

There was an outcropping of rock before a turn and there it was - and it was everything he thought he could be.

….

Sometime later, Joe showed back up at camp. Lily was busy doing something with the fire and a bucket, but he was too caught up in the moment to care about that. Each step had the slosh of water squirting out of it, as his soaking wet clothes dripped down his sides. As he got close enough to her to speak, he just blurted it all out.

“A waterfall.” He pointed from where he came. “Short walk, just at the edge of the hill. Not just a waterfall but a showering waterfall over a ledge and into a pool that seemed like it was practically swimmable. I think it’s fed from some geothermal thing because it has a smell. Plus The sandy surface & blueish tint of the water of the edge suggested that something was it in that kept the whole of it from being overgrown. I don’t know if it is drinkable, but it is warm, and awesome, and I couldn’t wait I just had to jump in. If we had a bar of soap and some shampoo, I could take a decent shower in the thing. Can you believe it? A waterfall, an honest to shit Waterfall.”

Shaking his hands free of the water that still remained on him he finally looked down at her hard work. “What’s that, shell art?”

She finally gave up on Joe, the coconut hunter, returning anytime soon. Probably playing in the trees. An idiot!

She tipped out a bit more seawater and dragged it a little closer. Rest. Repeat. Eventually she got it closer to the camp.

Next, she needed to gather some wood for the fire. Where the hell was that guy? He had better be bringing back a cellphone made from coconuts. Of course that was expecting quite a bit from a janitor, wasn't it? Nevertheless, one could always dream.

It began to be longer than the "2 hours" that the guy had claimed it would take him. Everything he talked about seemed to take 2 hours.

...couple of hours...

To what? Find coconuts? Sweep the floor? Build a raft and circumnavigate the globe? Fly to the moon and back? Please. More like find his shoes. Speaking of, she quickly went to where she had left her sandals. If it had been Florida, they would have been stolen. She slipped them on and headed back to camp, picking up sticks along the way.

She had started the fire up when she heard the sloshing. Hark! The great white hunter approaches? His empty hands told the story.

Tonight, they weren’t having coconuts.

Which made it a good thing that she had found the conchs. Now, to get them out.

He carried on about how he had found a waterfall. And apparently had dived in with all his clothes on. The logical thing would be to remove your clothes and at least pretend to wash them, wring out all the water and let them dry on a rock in the sun while washing the rest of your body. Instead, Mr. Genius apparently just dived in fully clothed and swam around before beaching himself to dribble all the way back to camp.

What was the name of that old television show about the people stuck on a deserted island? Gulligan? No, Gilligan! Gilligan's Island! Apparently, instead of being stuck with the Professor, she was here with Gilligan. Wonderful.

The man had yet to notice that she had discovered the bucket.

What’s that, shell art?

She gave him a withering look before saying, "Food."

As he stood there watching her, she asked him dryly, "Do you think that you can manage to gather up some wood and not get it wet?

On around Day 8 or 9 they had managed to fashion bowls of a sort out of coconut shells. It would really have been nice if they had some lime but at least this would be edible. She hoped.

She reached into the bucket and picked up a medium sized conch shell and threw it directly into the fire. She watched, trying to figure out when the conch was done. Using a "Y" shaped branch, she got the shell out of the fire. The creature was easy to get out of the shell now that it had cooked in the fire. She used a sharp edge of another shell to cut away the hard nail part.

By the third one, she had figured out the timing and when Joe got back with the wood, she had him throw the dry wood on the fire while she placed each conch wrested from the shell into a bowl. Once they were all cooked, she would share them with him.

"Wish we had a lime..." She spoke to no one in particular, but more under her breath.

Not the celebration that Joe hoped for, that’s for sure. Lily looked about as excited about the waterfall as she was about getting coconuts. Or for sleeping in the shelter. Or for hunting for fruit.

Joe wasn’t a guy that really let things bug him too much. No point really. You deal with what you got, and if you get something more than you take it. That just meant there weren’t too many people he had a hard time with. Granted, he and Lily met under pretty crappy circumstances, but she just seemed like a tough one to please. Into the the underbrush just off the beach, he dug around for driftwood and easily burnable items. She asked him to get it, so he was more than happy to oblige. Yet back now away from her, he could feel the heartburn start to rise of having to get a bit of an attitude from the woman.

Once he collected enough, he bundled them best he could right at the end of the beach. Lily was working the conch bent over the beasts and trying to retrieve the meat inside. The way she did, the shirt she wore fell open at the neckline. He saw hints of what lie beneath but in the dying light it wasn’t completely clear if he could see anything that could be scandalous. For her faults, the one shortfall she didn’t have was her looks. The sun of their shared prison seemed to only bronze her firm form and accent naturally the growing blondish locks. Unlike Joe, she gave no hint to what guy could be waiting at home for her, but it would be surprising if she didn’t. Maybe if he didn’t have someone at home maybe he would have made a go. For that matter, it’s not like any word of what he does down here would get back home - so he could really do whatever he wanted with ...

Joe shook his head loose. Too long on an island and it’s making him think with Mr. Winky.

He stepped just close enough to her work that he caught her line:

"Wish we had a lime..."

“Then we can put the lime in the coconut and drink it all up.” He widened his smile after saying it. Without an immediate reaction he added, “you know … from the song? Lime in the coconut? … Get it? … From … the song?”

He started to put the wood into the fire, trying to turn away from whatever cold reaction he would get, but quickly threw out, “nice work on the conchs by the way.”

She could cheerfully strangle Joe. Now that stupid song was running over and over in her head. 'Put the lime on the coconut and drink them both up, Put the lime in...' She tried to erase it from her memory. Didn't work. Stupid man!

As he threw wood on the fire, trying to keep it going. Thank god she didn't have to explain things to him. Maybe there was hope for him yet.

nice work on the conchs by the way.

"Thanks. I think that we may get enough meat to make it worthwhile."

Once the creature was pulled out of the shell, she quickly cut the nail off and put it in the bowl before the next creature cooked.

Lily concentrated on her work, not really paying attention to Joe. If she was not careful, the whole creature would burn. Each creature added to the meal and eventually the last conch went into the fire. With the sharp edge of another shell, she proceeded to chop the conch into smaller pieces. She put all the empty scorched conch shells back in the bucket. After they ate, she would let the great white hunter dump it...somewhere. Maybe he would finally notice the white bucket.

The sun was finally starting to head towards the horizon. She had to admit that this place did supply plenty of beautiful sunsets. Of course, you couldn't eat sunsets. Sunsets didn't let you call for help.

She finished chopping all the meat and put half in Joe's bowl and handed it to him. It made more than she had thought it would and she dipped her fingers in to grab a bit of the food. It was a somewhat salty and chewy, but on the whole, it was edible. And it was something that would keep them from starving for the day.

She sat near the fire as the day rolled into night. Night was sometime just a bit cool, though nothing that would be too uncomfortable. Joe sat across the flames from her and she found no need to speak. What did one say to a janitor? Sweep any floors lately? Hey, I've got some trash for you to take out! Shit, the guy wasn't that bad looking, though he was a mess when he first arrived. A tad soft and weak and the man managed to get his skin blistered right off the bat. He was now starting to firm up and his dull brown hair started lightening up. His skin had peeled - he really looked bad then, like a snake shedding its skin - and the pasty white was now a golden brown underneath. He was looking better, but still seemed rather dim witted with plenty of lame jokes.

She licked her fingers as she finished the meal. Not exactly proper etiquette but then sitting on your butt in the sand around the fire wasn't something done in high society either.

"You can throw away the burnt shells." She pointed to the white bucket filled with seawater and burnt conch shells. She took the coconut shell bowls and washed them in seawater first before heading to the fresh water to rinse the saltwater away. She dipped them in the fresh water and swirled it around before dumping it over to the side in the foliage. She then took them back to the lean to and set them in their spot.

The mosquitos were hungry this evening and she sat near the fire, hoping the smoke would keep them away. Nights were just as hard as the days. In all of her 24 years of living had she ever had to put up with this kind of life. She was usually alone. She had had several boyfriends but for the last year, she had been on her own. And had gotten used to it. Friday and Saturday nights would find her in Atlanta at one of the clubs.

The wood snapped in the flames and she grew even more quiet. And it popped back into her head. 'Put da lime in da coconut an' drink 'em bot' up...' Shit!

Joe liked to talk during their meals, but conversations seemed always difficult. Still, he would try. Tonight was an exception, however, because of a little distraction that started tearing at him. He had become accustom to seeing Lily in that fading sundress, all she had brought with her when they escaped the ship. It was not if he studied it or drew pictures of it in his head; only attached it to her as if anything else about her. Maybe he thought about it at some point, but he never really connected until that afternoon that the sundress was all that she wore. He, of course, barely was able to slide on his shorts and shirt; not really worrying about what was underneath. The affable fellow that he was, Joe didn’t really intend to consider that Lily may have done something similar.

He sat across from her on the other side of the fire while he ate. The way she dug her feet into the sand allowed that sun dress to drift slightly up her leg. Enough that Joe now became completely aware that she no wore panties.

When he first spotted the situation, he felt he should say something. When he figured out he didn’t have the guts to do exactly that, he tried to convince himself to at least not look her way. That didn’t last long either, and he became drawn to the view like a moth to a flame. It wasn’t as if she was dropping her legs open and throwing up a sign in big neon lights that state ‘Look At This Joe’. He legs were slightly bent, and only a peak of her nethers were there. The setting sun more to his back seemed to penetrate her clothing and allow her skin to glow underneath. When she shifted or moved, he saw little glimpses more than full scope review. Yet when pieced together, the image of what lie under her dress became more robust. She was still fit, and shaped softly. She reminded him of marble statues carved to perfection; it was perfection to him.

When she asked him to do something with the shells, he finally broke his concentration enough to look away. Still, the display had an impact on him and any attempt to get up will require hiding a something with his own shorts. He tried to distract himself with a response.

“I … I think I will just … bury those shells next to the shelter. At least so they … they don’t attract visitors.” He was struggling to keep his composure, and the fact his mouth turned bone dry wasn’t helping. He rolled in the sand and got to his feet doing his best to stay turned away from her.

“Those shells could come in handy for … I don’t know … something,” he studdurd. “Did I tell you I was a ‘maker’ back home? Do they have those in Atlanta, makers? We’re like guys that make stuff. I mean … like hobbist tinkers. Like … make … things out of other things.”

Running his hand through his hair, he grabbed for the bucket of shells and started to move them up the beach. At that point he couldn’t even look at Lily. Not just because he was hiding the tent in his shorts, but because everytime he looked her way he pictured what lay beneath that dress.

“I made this heated tile floor from six toasters last winter. That way Josie didn’t have to walk on cold floors after her shower. Josie, that’s my girlfriend. I told you about my girlfriend right? She gets cold. And she’s … my … girlfriend.”

Speaking of cold showers, all of a sudden Joe really needed one for himself.

The meal was quiet. Usually Joe blathered on about something totally stupid or...really stupid. Her mind had gone blank for a moment and she couldn't think. Wonderful! She was now more stupid than the janitor!

The sun was setting behind him, giving him a golden halo around him. She glanced at him and his eyes shifted away from her. He wasn't thinking of killing her? She had been kinda mean to him. But he set himself up so great for those things. The man was an idiot. Albeit one that could kill her if he wanted to. If he tried to hurt her, what was she going to do? Get on the coconut phone and call the coconut cops? Shit! She was letting her imagination run rampant.

They had yet to see any wild animals on this island, though when night came, she found it hard not to imagine every wild beast known to man out there in the foliage, including the odd velociraptor. She knew she should never have seen that stupid Jurassic Park movie.

Nevertheless, once night slipped up on them, she usually grew quieter, if for no other reason than to hear trouble when it came. And if trouble came, where could she run to? The lean to? It didn't even have a door. Rather, it contained a doorway. And if it had door? No locks. Hell! The shack was a combination of woven fronds and bits of wood.

She shook her head. She would probably die from boredom before at the hands of a crazed custodian. Their days were spent gathering food and exploring the island. But nights...not a lot of things to do at night. She had been lucky to find the conch today, otherwise food might have been nonexistent.

Her mind flipped to what he had discovered earlier today. If it was someplace where she could bathe, despite the lack of soap, it would still be welcome. Her sundress was starting to feel a bit stiff. Maybe she could make use of the pool.

I … I think I will just … bury those shells next to the shelter. At least so they … they don’t attract visitors.

Old Joe stood there with his back to her, waffling and stuttering. And not making much sense.

Those shells could come in handy for … I don’t know … something. Did I tell you I was a ‘maker’ back home? Do they have those in Atlanta, makers? We’re like guys that make stuff. I mean … like hobbist tinkers. Like … make … things out of other things.

Lord help us. He was a Maker? Then make me off this island. Make me a boat. Make yourself something other than a janitor. He had his back to her and didn't see the roll of her eyes.

I made this heated tile floor from six toasters last winter. That way Josie didn’t have to walk on cold floors after her shower. Josie, that’s my girlfriend. I told you about my girlfriend right? She gets cold. And she’s … my … girlfriend.

God! He only mentioned the stupid woman practically every day. What was she, a maid? Charwoman?

She looked at the moon rising up over the horizon behind her. Somehow, it looked a lot larger without all the street lights to hide behind. And stars! My God! She had never realized that there were so many...

There was a rustling in over to the side and she started for a second before realizing that it came from Joe's bathroom area. When they first arrived, there had been an agreement as to bathroom arrangements. She had her area and he had his, and never the twain shall meet. She realized that that was where the sound came from.

She got up and walked down to the water's edge, hoping that the sound from the waves would mask any sound. And if it wasn't Joe making the noise, then at least she could run into the water to get away from whatever creature it was.

She had a vision of Joe the velociraptor. Mopping a floor. That had 6 toasters under it.

You start to realize the sea is a floating junkyard if you spend enough time around it. Here they were on a deserted island, seemingly thousands of miles from any other human, and every day evidence of human life wash up on the shores. Plastic bottles, fishing nets, furniture, even rubber ducks. It shouldn’t be a big surprise that they arrive on these shores, since Joe & Lily found their way here the same way. As he arranged the conch shells in amongst some of the debris he picked up, his mind started working on the other things he could do in combination with what he had picked up.

The obvious things were rudimentary tools. Shells with that hardness level will take a while to wear, and the natural scoop lends it to be good for digging. Knowing he needed a better latrine, he set about lashing one of the shells to a longer stick and digging in the harder earth near where he has been doing his buisness. As he worked, he thought of other things to do. Maybe he can find a nest of bees, smoke them out, and use the wax from the hive to create slow burning candles in the shells. If they get to the point where they need to do some serious building, he could probably fashion some rough fasteners that he can hammer into wood like nails. Joe pretty soon realized the hole he was digging was much bigger than he needed. He had been digging for as much as a half hour, lost in the thoughts of what to do with all the found goods. His arms and back were aching from the work, but otherwise he felt good. Really good. He felt normal. Like back in the shop when faced with real problems with the crew, and they worked through it. His company was on leading edge technologies for use in aerospace applications, and being a floor manager meant constant challenges and problem solving. It can sound like a headache, but problem solving was exciting - it was like he was always trying to make the world a better place. But Joe got used to people who aren’t in that field, like Lily failing to understand.

Like Lily.

And just like that, his mind was there under her dress. The smooth alabaster skin heading towards the junction to her sex. The vision made his mouth water, his blood grow warmer, and the distractions of the evening a thing of the past.

Something told him, this was going to be a problem. Lily wasn’t exactly the most friendly person in the world, but she certainly didn’t deserve him staring at her goods like that. No matter how magnificent they were. It didn’t help that since arriving on the island, he hadn’t exactly ‘taken matters into his own hands’ yet - and a month without Josie’s skill set was probably part of why he couldn’t focus much anymore. But if Lily ends up sitting like that one more time he may not even need to lay a hand on himself to ‘clear things up’.

Exhausted, he turned to the shelter, shifted to his side, and curled up. His back felt like it would be an issue, so he laid on it directly, covering his eyes from the bright moon with a palm frond. At this point, he tried to sleep, tried to do so without thinking of Lily. Tried and tried and tried.

After a while she realized that, what with her imagination running riot and her appreciation of the waves crashing against the shore, the sounds were no longer coming from Joe's bathroom.

Looking back, she decided that it was probably time to go to sleep. Tomorrow would come soon enough. She walked wearily up the little hill towards their shelter. It was abysmally small, but she couldn't complain as she hadn't done any of the construction.

The moonlight gave off a surprisingly bright light. Though still low on the horizon, all along the beach, she could see the night sea life coming alive. It would be nice if there was a way to eat the crab dancing along the water's edge, though they were quite small and it would take quite a few to make a meal.

It took her a moment to realize just what she was seeing. It's not like she hadn't seen one before. But just not his.

At this angle, it was possible to see straight up his shorts. Apparently, just like her, he had left in a rush, without his underwear. Or perhaps he was in a habit of going commando. And though he wore shorts, and she was not used to seeing a man's "package" from this angle, he appeared to have the start of a good boner.

Shit! Just seeing it was actually getting her excited. She began to feel that familiar pull deep inside her, though it had been just over a year since she broke up with Clark. Or rather, since Clark dropped her.

She shook her head. She would not look! She would not look! Shit! The closer she got, the better it looked.

She gave a cough, hoping he would change position as she entered the lean to and took 2 steps to her side of the room. She smoothed the sand before laying down, curling into a fetal position with her back to him and her dress pulled tight to her. It was an attempt to hide herself from his eyes, not realizing how the tightness more than accented her shape, and as the night would progress and sleep take over, she would relax, allowing the dress to slip up just short of scandalous.

Her dreams were slow in coming as Joe and his shorts, for once since their being marooned on this island, kept drifting into her mind. Her dreams were jumbled, with Joe the Velociraptor, his shorts around his knees dragging a toaster.

There was a clockwork rhythm to the place, as if each chair, table, counter, or surface was made of some machine that cranked along at a great symphony of movement. The place felt like a store, with areas of goods piled high in the brightly lit spaces, but spacious and free of any towering aisles. Each surface worked and shifted seemingly driven by steam, or some unseen energy. Carts whizzed by, pushed by housewives and average guys dressed like a normal day out and about. Folks in blue shirts wandered about with nametags on that said “Hi, I’m *blankblank*” on them.

It seemed like a place alive of all the great gadgets and gizmos of modern world. But on each table were stuff from some tropical island. Palm fronds. Coral. Sand crabs. Or for that matter, Sand.

“Oh, down this way honey, we need to find you something to eat” she said next to him. Joe looked to his side, and it was Josie. At least he knew it was Josie, even though it was kind of hard to see what she really was. Like her shape and face weren’t really there. But she pulled at him down a path.

At first there were coconuts, stacks and stacks of them. “You can have as many of those as you want,” she told him.

“But I already have them everywhere.”

“Oh,” she exclaimed and pulled him further. Around a corner there were bowls full of little pieces of meat. She reached for them and seemed to eat it. “Mmmm,” she moaned, “this is good, you can have as much as these.”

He took a piece and ate it, it tasted like conch. After swallowing he stated, “yes good, but I ate some of that already.”

After a breath, she stated, “I know what you haven’t had yet.”

Again she pulled him, down a darker path, down a harder to follow path but shortly she turned and there sitting on a pedestal was Lily, looking off in the distance as if oblivious to their arrival. Josie approached her, lifted her dress until it was bunched up to her stomach, and opened her legs to Joe’s eyes.

“Go on, honey, eat this.”

Joe stared down at Lily’s sex, warm, inviting, and eager - as if the uncaring woman attached to it didn’t exist at all. It looked as though he was meant to taste what lay there in all it’s soft, silky beauty.

Josie told him softly, “it’s okay. Have as much of her as you like.”

Joe looked at his girlfriend who seemed to be fading more and more. “But what about you.”

Her voice wafted to him. “I can wait until we are home.”

Joe turned his full attention to Lily, slowly moving to stand in front of her. The height of the pedestal she was placed upon was perfect to move his head between her legs, and as he drew closer and closer to her he became of her musk and fragrance as wonderfully erotic as any he had known. Just as he was about to place his lips on her flesh and taste the most forbidden of fruits ….

……..


Joe woke with a start. Looking around madly, he became aware of where he was but it was so tough to be clear what was real. The shelter, the still dull darkness as dawn was just arriving, the blowing wind through the shelter with it’s smell of the sea.

A dream. It was just a dream.

To confirm, he turned to look towards Lily’s side of the shelter, and that just didn’t help at all. She had pulled her dress tight against her in her sleep, bunched up in her fists in her lap as she lay fetally away from him. The problem was the dress was pulled up so high that peeking out from under was hints of the same parts of her that his dream urged him to taste.

If he hadn’t woken with an erection, it was there now.

He had to get out of there, and stumbled out of the shelter. He grabbed the makeshift fishing pole, grabbed at the cup that kept the dried pieces of fish he used as bait, and headed to the beachfront to try to distract himself with fishing. At this point, it was better to get as far away from Lily as he could, until the time came that he could look at her he didn’t see her in one way or another naked.

She awoke with a start.

Joe was nowhere to be seen in the postage stamp sized lean to. She could see the indent in the sand where he had slept. Morning lit the beach outside, letting her know it was still early-ish. She felt grimy from sleeping once again in the sand. She still felt tired. Her dreams last night had been disturbing. Joe and his toasters still figured prominently, and that fact he was a velociraptor was just stupid. Too bad you can't control dreams.

As a kid, it bothered her that she would dream about things she didn't want to dream about. So many nights she would lay in bed, her mind focused on something benign like going shopping with friends. But once asleep, the entire dream would be about the math test the next day and how she was in there naked trying to take the test while trying not to be noticed.

It bothered her that right before she woke up, Dream Joe the velociraptor was naked, standing waist high in toast and she was trying to dig him out. She knew that it had been a while since she had been with a guy, but surely she wasn't that hard up.

Shaking her head, she got up. They ate when they had food. There was no breakfast - bagel with a shmere -, lunch - club sandwich, please -, or supper - big juicy burger with fries, yum! Instead, it was "I gotta fish" quickly followed by "I'm hungry, I gotta eat!" Meanwhile , her stomach had already digested the conch from last night and was ready for more food. She tried not to think about it. Maybe a quick bath and clothes washing.

She looked around the camp. The crude fishing pole was missing. He was fishing. She usually was not crazy about seafood. She could take it or leave it. But right now, if some big, scaly fish was put in front of her to eat, then yeah, she'd cook it and eat it. If he was fishing, then he would be busy. She headed off in the direction that he mentioned yesterday. It was a bit difficult as there was no definite trail. But she pressed on, really wanting that bath.

She heard the falls before she saw it. She finally parted some foliage and there it was. It wasn't a huge falls, nor was the pool overly large. But it was big enough to bathe in. She looked around. She seemed to be alone. It did have a strange smell - not really that bad - but apparently it was not dangerous though she had no desire to drink it. Once near where the falls cascaded over a rock ledge, the pool was studded with large rocks half in and out of the blue pool. Slipping off her sandals and placing them on top of a huge dry rock, she steppeed to the edge and dipped a toe in the water. Warm. Not hot. Not cold. Warm.

One more glance around. All alone!

Her hands grabbed the fabric of the sundress. It felt sinful standing there totally nude. She shook her head and squatted, dipping the dress into the water. Despite the lack of soap, Lily scrubbed the dress on the rock gently. Anything was bound to be an improvement. Once she was satisfied with her actions, she stood up and carefully wrung out as much water as possible before spreading out the dress on the large dry rock beside her sandals. The morning sun was already beaming down and would hopefully dry it quickly.

She slowly walked into the pool, the warmth a surprising welcome. It didn't take much walking to reach the falls, the water splashing over the rock ledge. She stood there, water pouring like a curtain, washing away sand and dirt and sweat and grime. Washing away fear and hopelessness and uncertainty. Her hair, unbounded hung down her back a ways, the sun bleaching the blonde locks even blonder. She was missing her razor, as was the scruffy beard that Joe had sprouted, but some things could not be helped.

She needed to stop thinking of Joe. Think of Atlanta. She actually hummed a little tune as the water cascaded over her.

If you believe that dreams are messages sent to you through symbolism then the message in the dream was clear. Whatever situation he found himself in with Lily would be okay for Josie. She allowed and encouraged him to eat the most forbidden of forbidden fruits, encouraged him even. That was saying an awful lot, of course, because if there is one thing Josie likes it’s him eating her forbidden fruit. It could be that he was good at it, but when you spend as much time down there as Josie has him doing, you are bound to get good at it.

Of course, if you believe that dreams are your own subconscious pressed into our actual conscious, then all that Joe was doing was justifying being a complete pervert to poor, innocent Lily. All she did was sit there on the beach, made no intention to turn Joe into a peeping Tom. Heck, she doesn’t even seem to like him. Any dream about a long distance girlfriend encouraging him to go to ‘the land down under’ doesn’t change the fact that it’s still unwelcome territory by the current inhabitants.

That was how his fishing adventure went. A continuous stream of analyzing and re-analying the night that was. All it did was make his stomach churn with anxiety and frustration. What he needed to do was to do something that would take his mind off of Lily’s naked body.

A shower would work.

So off he went to the new found spring. It took some doing, it wasn’t as though he left himself good landmarks to make it back there, but soon enough he heard the splash of the waterfall. That’s what he remember the most, hearing it well before seeing it. One rock outcropping, turn the corner and there it was.

Well …

Actually …

There she was …

The defiant dress hung on a branch near the waterfall, leaving her bare. She stood under the cascading water as it covered her from head to toe. She leaned back, eyes closed, and stretching to feel the warm water cover her body. Her firm breasts, bronze in the constant sun through her sundress, stretched fully. Her lean form grew taut from her flat stomach to the the soft creases of her mons. Her legs, her arms, her neck, every naked inch of her was glorious. The effect of the island, whatever it was, likely enhanced all that made her so beautiful.

Joe held himself against the outcropping, doing what he can to remain hidden, but to see all he could as she continued her shower. All the thinking had shut down. All the restrain. All of it. Joe couldn’t help himself anymore. He reached down to his shorts, unzipped them, and freed his erection. His hand encircled the thing that felt bigger and heavier than he ever remembered. The skin under his hand rolled and pulled as he slowly started to stroke his member.

There was little control left in him, because it had all became a perfect storm. So many weeks without attention to his physical needs. So many recent hours at peeks and visions to frustrate him. And now. None had he ever seen had been so beautiful, so sexy, so amazing. Lily was a dream. And already he felt the edge coming to his release.

She finally felt clean again. Despite the lack of soap, at least some of the accumulated grunge since their arrival to the island was gone. Even a dip in the ocean left the salty residue. But she stepped from under the waterfall and actually felt clean.

The water roaring over the lip of the ledge managed to make its fair share of noise. She leaned over and wrung the water from her hair. Without a comb, she was fighting a losing battle against tangles, which was why she usually wore it up. Usually a sharp stick helped keep it under control.

She glanced around but still didn't see Joe. She stood for a moment, the sun drying her hair and body. For a moment, she actually felt free of the restrictions of being stuck here on the island. She lifted her arms upward and stretched, her feet still in water up to her ankles.

There was a rustling in the nearby greenery, and she started. The velociraptor jumped in her thoughts and she decided it was time to dress. Checking found it pretty much dry with just the occasional patch of damp. She grabbed it and slipped it overhead. It actually felt softer and cleaner and she knew that she would do this again.

Slipping her sandals, she heard another sound behind her. Those big green tropical leaves over to one side were weaving and thrashing about. Visions of huge iguanas, hungry and craving human flesh. Maybe that's why they were alone here. Everyone else had been eaten! Or...or...

She hurriedly left the pool, not looking back. That way, if something was chasing her, then...damn, she was scared enough to look back but didn't see anything following, chasing, or trying to eat her. She didn't dare let the janitor know that she was scared. She didn't know why. It didn't make any sense. And she really wasn't one of those stupid females that freaks out at roaches or snakes. She didn't like snakes, but she didn't run screaming into the night at the sight of them. But her active imagination could turn something harmless into scary. Especially at night.

Eventually she got back to camp. Hopefully Joe was catching supper. She headed along the tree line, carrying her new favorite item - the white bucket. Mr. "I'm a Maker" never noticed it. She was going to go looking for coconuts

Walking along the beach, she had to admit that being here had put her very aware of her life. She stood for a moment, looking out to the water. For all the crap that she gave him, at least he had someone that would miss him. At this moment, Joe's girlfriend was probably organizing something on FaceBook that would bring a whole armada of vessels to rescue him. They probably arrived while she was bathing and left her here. He had someone that would miss her.

She tried to tell herself that someone would miss her too. But it was a lie. Shit! They had probably already replaced her at work. No family. No real friends. No one.

She turned back and continued her quest for coconuts, her eyes full of tears.

Feeling engulfed in guilt, Joe sat on the ground in the jungle, occasionally peering around the brush to see if she was gone. Lily was dressing and looked to be about to head out, so he tried to remain still in the brush so she could go along without noticing him here. Getting caught would have made this all just that much worse. A few feet away, his spend sat splashed across the ground in all it’s glorious volume. When he finished & caught his breath, he slid to his hiding spot taking the chance that only his remains would be visible but surely she wouldn’t figure out what it was or it’s source.

In the meantime, Joe tried to convince himself that this was what he needed. A little tension release. Pent up from weeks without that exact release. It was like porn really. A look of at a naked girl, few tugs on Little Joe, and done. He’d feel better, would be able to focus on things better. Plus they’d probably get found pretty soon anyway, so this only has to be a one time thing.

Of course, that didn’t stop the guilt. Lily didn’t ask to get spied on. She didn’t ask him to wack off watching her. She may never know, but he would. That is all that matters, doesn’t it.

When she had left, he thought about taking that shower, but arriving back at camp wet from the waterfall would give away that he had been up there. So he shifted away in the other direction exploring. Not much to see really, just a few more pockets of vegetation. It was further than he had before, but at least this meant exploration - seeing what lay beyond the ends of the land that they knew of. As he shifted over a rock he heard immediate scurrying of creatures near his feet, something that made him jump and land awkwardly on something unsettling. Falling his leg scrapped heavily on rocks and settled. His first thought was to look at his wound. Not much, three scrapes that almost looked like claw marks but the sandiness of the bruise made it sure to be from the rocks. When he looked down to his feet he saw what made the footing so awkward. He had stepped on and crushed the head of a medium sized lizard. It looked like one of those kind that people keep as pets, but not the baby kinds, but not any monster. The thing was clearly dead, but didn’t look like roadkill.

That meant, they had dinner.

Emerging onto the beach, Joe held his prize in his hand. The lizard was big enough that as he carried it by the tail the head nearly touched the ground. Cooked, it will feed them for a day or two, or serve as further bait for whatever. He felt a little bad for the thing. After he killed it, it seemed his little buddies came over curiously to watch what was going on. They didn’t seem dangerous or upset, just … lonely. Still, it was food.

Lily didn’t seem to be around when he arrived. He noticed the conch bucket she was using yesterday was gone, so he thought that it was that as much. In the meantime, he got to work preparing the meal for cooking. Taking a long piece of rebar that was mixed in with some of the flotsom, he skewered the creature through it’s mouth right down thru the end of it’s tail. For kicks, he pushed enough of the bar through so he could pound the tail end into the ground next to the fire. This made it look like a miniture godzilla attacking the pyre.

Proud of himself, he settled into the sand and watched the thing cook.

In these minutes of solace he found a peace, one that he hadn’t felt for a while. This place, with all it’s solitary, was peaceful and beautiful. The kind of beach he could spend his retirement at when the world slowed down. Maybe it was actually having that tension release he so needed, but for the first time since becoming stranded on this sand he felt happy. Like the situation he found himself wasn’t so bad as it appeared.

At least she found a couple of coconuts. She didn't know how Joe and his fishing expedition were going but if necessary, she could always dig up those sardines. If she only had a skillet or a saucepan...

She finally got the tears out of her system and put the two coconuts in the plastic bucket and walked along the water's edge. Up a ways, sandpiper-type birds ran along the surf, searching for food, too. Once again, something rolling in the surf caught her eye. Upon closer inspection, it was driftwood. Hooked on one end was a set of six plastic rings, the type that hold cans and bottles of soft drinks together. She gathered up the strange combination and threw them in the bucket along with the coconuts before heading back towards camp. Let Mr. I'm a Maker do something with it. If not, she had done her part to make the beach clean.

The camp appeared off in the distance. She would at least be bringing in something to eat. She could see the smoke off in the distance. Fish again tonight. At least it was food. And the coconut would go good with it. Right now, though, she was thirsty and could use a drink of water. Actually, she could use a bottle of wine. The whole bottle. All to herself.

There was no trace of the tears from earlier. Back was the Lily that she had presented that dark and confusing evening on the ship before their lifeboat had been lowered into the sea. The closer she got to camp, the more grim and determined she became. For some reason, she did not want to appear weak and inept to a janitor.

As she approached, she saw Joe sitting in the sand, looking quite pleased with himself. Maybe he caught 2 fish. She held up the bucket towards him. "2 coconuts and other assorted finds." She turned towards the fire expecting to see a couple of fish cooking over the fire.

The scream that she let loose was accompanied with dropping the bucket so that the coconuts and other items spilled across sand.

A small velociraptor appeared to be cooking over the flames.

Joe sat near the fire while his little buddy cooked on it’s skewer. His knees bent, he curled his arms around them and laid his head on his arms. Slowly he felt the restless night of before bring out a yawn. Would be a bit before the sunset, before dinner was done, but maybe it would be alright if he got a little rest.

Maybe a little nap.

Warm day, warm sun, with the gentle wash of the waves on the beach, it all had the calming effect like nothing else.

Yeah, a nap will do him good.

Maybe, just for … a … bit …

….

SCREAMS!!!

He kicked at the sand trying to get to his feet, and in his hand was a piece of driftwood at the read.

Joe’s heart pounded so hard that he could feel it crashing at his chest. He shifted turned, looked about ready to leap at whatever it was.

Find Lily.

Keep Lily Safe.

He turned and saw her on the beach. At her feet were coconuts and the bucket.

She looked like she saw a ghost.

“What! What is it?” He looked around the beach purposefully. Ready to defend the girl from whatever. “Where is it? What’s going on?

She had not really been paying attention to the fact that old Joe was napping. She had been too proud of her coconuts. Then, suddenly, she saw the velociraptor cooking over the flames. All those noises in the night had been it! It wasn't her imagination! She did have a reason to be afraid!

Her scream started a chain reaction! From his prone position, the janitor was suddenly upright, stick in hand, kicking sand out in all directions. His look of confusion would have been funny had she not been so scared.

What! What is it? Where is it? What’s going on?

She stood there, a look of pure horror on her face, pointing to the monster cooking over the flames. How had he killed it? Were there more? Would they attack? Maybe she's had underestimated Joe after all.

Joe looked at his feet. Looked behind him. Looked towards the fire. He looked up the beach. Each turn hand him snapping around from spot to spot, the wood like a bludgeon ready to thwart any enemy that lay before him. He could almost hear the crack in the air with each move, ready to kill that threatened Lily’s life, her verture, her purity, her …. Whatever.

Then he put two and two together, and looked down at the lizard snapping away with its greasy yumminess, and his eyebrows raised.

He could of have overreacted, spat out at her, lost all respect for the woman he had spent the last 22 days with.

Instead he just started laughing.

Relaxing, laughing, and throwing the “Weapon” into the fire, he sat back down again. He laughed and laughed, almost to the point of tears, the extent of her reaction.

“Oh … Lily … you had me scared there. I thought you were really in danger.” Wiping at his eye he finished with. “Don’t worry, he went quite quietly.”

She watched as Joe jumped around before he finally realized what she was pointing to.

He started laughing. At her. Slowly her fear turned to shame. The laugh rolled out of him as he sat down in the sand, his laughter filling her ears. Tears began to run down his cheeks and he was almost bent over double.

As she stood there, she felt shame and embarrassment as she watched him.

Oh … Lily … you had me scared there. I thought you were really in danger. Don’t worry, he went quite quietly.

'I thought you were really in danger.' She had made a fool of herself.

As he sat there laughing at her, she left things where she had dropped them. She turned and walked away. The tears started running down her cheeks, her vision blurred as she left Joe laughing over the cooking velociraptor.

It wasn’t the reaction he expected. When Lily turned to walk away, the laughter stopped and he started to feel gutted. Of course, there was no ill intent with his laughter, the situation just seemed funny. The fact that it seemed she took it that way now troubled him pretty deeply.

“Hey wait,” he called. Of course there were times when people needed to have time to themself, but Joe never really figured that out. If anyone was troubled, he felt he needed to help them. That instinct was full on him now, since it was not more than a few seconds ago he had leaped up intent on killing some unseen danger that threatened Lily. Now whatever he did, he felt like he needed to protect her again.

“Lily wait.” He closed the gap quickly and put a hand on her arm, “I wasn’t laughing at you. I was laughing at the … I don’t know … Like it was a monster cooking or something. I didn’t mean to scare you with that. I …” He trailed off as he hoped he could fix this.

Lily wait. I wasn’t laughing at you. I was laughing at the … I don’t know … Like it was a monster cooking or something. I didn’t mean to scare you with that. I …

He put a hand on her arm to stop her. She stood there, her back to him. Tears ran down her cheeks.

"I-I-I know pe-pe-people don't li-li-like me." She couldn't look at him. She had been nothing but mean to him. Mean and rude and condescending and now he had gotten even with her. She couldn't look at him. Now he would know that she was afraid. Afraid of something that even the janitor could kill.

She just wanted to disappear. She started running away, anything to put distance between her and Joe.

This time he did let her go. Too confused to speak, to confuse to stop her, he watched as Lily tore off in the darkening day towards the woods. He should have followed. After twenty-two days on this island he figured out that they were pretty safe generally speaking. But it was growing dark, and she wasn’t the most accustomed person to the rough world outside of big cities.

Still, Joe was torn by the words she spoke. It wasn’t about the lizard cooking over the fire. It was a blustering of how people don’t like her. It was a breakdown of something far deeper than getting scared by animals on the barbie. In that statement, he reacted by giving her space. Giving her the room to be in her own troubles seemed to be the immediate reaction he could give.

Quietly, he turned back to the fire and pulled the fried beast from the ground. It looked well cooked, as now the skin was blistering and splitting dripping the bits of fatty grease from its sides. He took a shell and split the meal open carving the flesh from the skin until he had it all nicely separated. The meat was placed in one of the bowls. He considered briefly keeping the skin in case they needed the tough hide for something later - but the way Lily reacted to the the creature over the fire, it was probably best to stick it into the embers and let it char away to nothing. The flesh was okay at best, in need of a good spice rub or loads of barbecue sauce. Yet it was filling, good enough for his needs.

She had really only been gone for minutes, but Lily was still etching at him. She wasn’t the easiest to get along with, that was sure. Maybe back home she wouldn’t find much love. But in the midwest, people are naturally nicer. In Atlanta, she probably had tough personalities and hipsters to deal with.

But he didn’t hate her. Maybe he even liked her. Just not that way of course … even if his peeping earlier that day said something different. Why she would think that no one likes her ...after twenty-two days together. Did he say something? Did he do something?

Joe stood, walked over to the tree with the marks, remembering that it was of course twenty-two days now, he marked the new notch. The sharp shell in his hand dug easily in the wet wood. Hopefully soon they would be found, and she can get back to those who she feels like her.