Body Games
Page 10
“I’ll find my own,” he told me, still heading to the water. “Now leave me alone.”
Unreal. I watched him wade into the waves, astonished. Didn’t he care about surviving? We had no clothing, and if it got cold tonight - and it would - we’d be freezing our butts off. I’d just have to make my own bed…
And I knew what would happen if I did. He’d steal it for himself . I scowled at his form. So I was screwed. I could make no shelter and freeze, or I could make shelter knowing it was going to end up being for both of us. Lovely. I suspected Kip knew that, too. After all, if I made a fire, I couldn’t chase him away from it, could I?
Frustrated, I turned back to the flag and the box that had been left for us. Why, oh why had I stripped on the beach? It must have been temporary insanity. Or the need to impress that hot guy that had sat next to me on the boat ride. I tried to remember his name. Jordan? Jason?
Not that it mattered. I wasn’t here to hook up. Still, his encouragement on the beach had warmed me. If nothing else, he might end up as a friend or an ally.
I could sure use one right about now.
With a sigh, I pulled open the box to see what we’d have to live with for the next six weeks. Probably a stack of tampons and a “LOL GOOD LUCK” sign with the way my day had been going. The lid of the box was heavy, solid wood, and I put it aside carefully. The box was about three feet long and not very deep, but three feet of solid wood meant a decent place to sleep or even lay. Sand would be softer, but I didn’t want sand in my unmentionable places when I woke up, and given that we didn’t have blankets or underwear or anything, that seemed like a likely scenario.
Inside the box, a small packet of grease pencils was laid atop everything else. A tiny card rested on them that read “Have your partner write your name on your back. Please make sure you are labeled at all times.” I glanced around, but Kip was nowhere to be found, so I tossed the pencils aside for now. Below the small package of pencils was a single machete, a cast-iron pot, and two canteens. I knew what that meant - giving us a pot meant we’d have to boil our water. Well, at least they weren’t going to make us drink out of coconut shells. I supposed it could have been worse. I picked up a canteen and noticed that the beige band around the middle of the metal body was a note tied to it.
I glanced around for Kip. He was still in the water, floating on his back. Surreptitiously, I tugged the note off the canteen and glanced at it.
The note was written in a clear hand. Want a hint for Pandora’s Box? Head for water and look for a forked tree. One foot down, there, Pandora’s Box will be.
Oh shit.
I read the note again, trying to memorize it. Water. Forked tree. One foot down. I rolled the note up hastily when I heard Kip begin to splash around, and looked for a place to hide the note. Shit. There was nowhere but sand - too easily discovered - and I had no pockets. After a frantic moment, I shoved the note into the opening of my canteen. There was an identical note wrapped around the other canteen, and I grabbed it just as I heard another splash and Kip came trotting up on the shore.
He caught me red-handed, holding the other note. “What’s that?”
“Oh. Um.” I stared down at it in my hand, then back at him. I didn’t even know what to say. I was a terrible liar in the best scenarios.
Kip, luckily, was so full of his own self-importance that he didn’t even notice my lame attempt to find an excuse. He tossed back his flowing black hair and pulled the note from my hand. Mute, I let him take it and inwardly cringed as he studied it. After a moment, he said, “Looks like a map to the water well.”
It was?
Frowning, I leaned over his shoulder to see, and ignored the fact that he adjusted his arm so it’d brush against my breast. Sure enough, there was a tiny map on his note with an X that had a water symbol next to it. “Oh,” I said.
He snorted. “What did you think it’d be?”
I said nothing, not trusting my voice.
Kip eyed the canteen in my hand. “Were you going to go get water?”
“I…can, I suppose.”
He handed his canteen to me. “Great. Could you get me some?”
I took it without a word of protest. “See if you can start a fire while I’m gone, okay?”
“Sure,” he said, and turned back to the water, heading for the ocean again.
Yeah. I had a feeling I’d get back to camp and there’d be no fire. Whatever. I kept my steps calm as I took the tiny map in hand and began to follow the marked path labeled on it. Inwardly, my heart was hammering. Near water, it had said. Near water. That wasn’t much of a clue, considering we were on an island surrounded by water…but the fact that it was tied to the canteen made me wonder if it was talking about the well instead. I’d start my search there. A forked tree shouldn’t be that hard to find.
Excitement surged through me. Pandora’s box! They sure were making it easy to find. A clue on day one, and an obvious one. It was evident that they wanted it to be found. Did that mean that there was something bad inside it?
Did I care? Not really. Things couldn’t get much worse in my opinion.
~~ *** ~~
It took me a half hour to find the well, and it was no more than a rain-barrel dug into the ground and covered with a cutesy island-motif top. The lid had BOIL ME FIRST carved into it. I wondered, if there wasn’t natural water on the island, how hard would it be to fill the barrel with drinking water instead of whatever this was? But I supposed boiling water was part of the Endurance Island challenge. Canteens filled, I slung them over my neck and started to look for a forked tree.
I searched for two hours, both near the well and as far as I dared wander. No forked tree. Dismayed, I buried the clue below a tree with spidery roots and headed back to the beach. I was tired, sunburned, and hungry, and I’d need to do something about shelter if I planned on sleeping tonight. The canteens now full of water I couldn’t drink, I headed toward camp, hoping to be greeted by the smell of smoke from a nice fire.
No such luck. When I returned, Kip was laid out on the beach, soaking up the sun and enjoying himself. Nothing had been done at camp.
Gritting my teeth, I set to work. First, fire. Then, I could boil water. After that, I’d have to look for shelter of some kind. It was abundantly clear to me that one of us thought he was going to get by on charm alone. Come to think of it, he’d pulled the same stunt last time we’d played and I’d been too besotted to notice. Gullible, gullible Annabelle. Someday, you’d think I’d learn.
So I gathered brush for tinder and dug a fire pit in the sand and lined it with rocks. I gathered wood. By the time I had a decent stack of firewood, the sun was going down and I was too tired to work on the fire itself. We had no flint, so I’d have to make a fire by rubbing sticks together - good ol’ friction. That required a lot more energy than I had at the moment.
With the last of my strength, I went to the edge of the beach and picked up a coconut. They were everywhere, luckily, but I knew that they wouldn’t last. Still, it’d do for today. I’d gotten pretty good at cracking coconuts the last time I played, and I had it open with two well-placed swings. Coconut juice began to dribble onto the sand and I grabbed it and tipped it back to drink the sweet liquid.
“Hey, you going to save some of that for me?” Kip asked.
Unreal. I watched him wade into the waves, astonished. Didn’t he care about surviving? We had no clothing, and if it got cold tonight - and it would - we’d be freezing our butts off. I’d just have to make my own bed…
And I knew what would happen if I did. He’d steal it for himself . I scowled at his form. So I was screwed. I could make no shelter and freeze, or I could make shelter knowing it was going to end up being for both of us. Lovely. I suspected Kip knew that, too. After all, if I made a fire, I couldn’t chase him away from it, could I?
Frustrated, I turned back to the flag and the box that had been left for us. Why, oh why had I stripped on the beach? It must have been temporary insanity. Or the need to impress that hot guy that had sat next to me on the boat ride. I tried to remember his name. Jordan? Jason?
Not that it mattered. I wasn’t here to hook up. Still, his encouragement on the beach had warmed me. If nothing else, he might end up as a friend or an ally.
I could sure use one right about now.
With a sigh, I pulled open the box to see what we’d have to live with for the next six weeks. Probably a stack of tampons and a “LOL GOOD LUCK” sign with the way my day had been going. The lid of the box was heavy, solid wood, and I put it aside carefully. The box was about three feet long and not very deep, but three feet of solid wood meant a decent place to sleep or even lay. Sand would be softer, but I didn’t want sand in my unmentionable places when I woke up, and given that we didn’t have blankets or underwear or anything, that seemed like a likely scenario.
Inside the box, a small packet of grease pencils was laid atop everything else. A tiny card rested on them that read “Have your partner write your name on your back. Please make sure you are labeled at all times.” I glanced around, but Kip was nowhere to be found, so I tossed the pencils aside for now. Below the small package of pencils was a single machete, a cast-iron pot, and two canteens. I knew what that meant - giving us a pot meant we’d have to boil our water. Well, at least they weren’t going to make us drink out of coconut shells. I supposed it could have been worse. I picked up a canteen and noticed that the beige band around the middle of the metal body was a note tied to it.
I glanced around for Kip. He was still in the water, floating on his back. Surreptitiously, I tugged the note off the canteen and glanced at it.
The note was written in a clear hand. Want a hint for Pandora’s Box? Head for water and look for a forked tree. One foot down, there, Pandora’s Box will be.
Oh shit.
I read the note again, trying to memorize it. Water. Forked tree. One foot down. I rolled the note up hastily when I heard Kip begin to splash around, and looked for a place to hide the note. Shit. There was nowhere but sand - too easily discovered - and I had no pockets. After a frantic moment, I shoved the note into the opening of my canteen. There was an identical note wrapped around the other canteen, and I grabbed it just as I heard another splash and Kip came trotting up on the shore.
He caught me red-handed, holding the other note. “What’s that?”
“Oh. Um.” I stared down at it in my hand, then back at him. I didn’t even know what to say. I was a terrible liar in the best scenarios.
Kip, luckily, was so full of his own self-importance that he didn’t even notice my lame attempt to find an excuse. He tossed back his flowing black hair and pulled the note from my hand. Mute, I let him take it and inwardly cringed as he studied it. After a moment, he said, “Looks like a map to the water well.”
It was?
Frowning, I leaned over his shoulder to see, and ignored the fact that he adjusted his arm so it’d brush against my breast. Sure enough, there was a tiny map on his note with an X that had a water symbol next to it. “Oh,” I said.
He snorted. “What did you think it’d be?”
I said nothing, not trusting my voice.
Kip eyed the canteen in my hand. “Were you going to go get water?”
“I…can, I suppose.”
He handed his canteen to me. “Great. Could you get me some?”
I took it without a word of protest. “See if you can start a fire while I’m gone, okay?”
“Sure,” he said, and turned back to the water, heading for the ocean again.
Yeah. I had a feeling I’d get back to camp and there’d be no fire. Whatever. I kept my steps calm as I took the tiny map in hand and began to follow the marked path labeled on it. Inwardly, my heart was hammering. Near water, it had said. Near water. That wasn’t much of a clue, considering we were on an island surrounded by water…but the fact that it was tied to the canteen made me wonder if it was talking about the well instead. I’d start my search there. A forked tree shouldn’t be that hard to find.
Excitement surged through me. Pandora’s box! They sure were making it easy to find. A clue on day one, and an obvious one. It was evident that they wanted it to be found. Did that mean that there was something bad inside it?
Did I care? Not really. Things couldn’t get much worse in my opinion.
~~ *** ~~
It took me a half hour to find the well, and it was no more than a rain-barrel dug into the ground and covered with a cutesy island-motif top. The lid had BOIL ME FIRST carved into it. I wondered, if there wasn’t natural water on the island, how hard would it be to fill the barrel with drinking water instead of whatever this was? But I supposed boiling water was part of the Endurance Island challenge. Canteens filled, I slung them over my neck and started to look for a forked tree.
I searched for two hours, both near the well and as far as I dared wander. No forked tree. Dismayed, I buried the clue below a tree with spidery roots and headed back to the beach. I was tired, sunburned, and hungry, and I’d need to do something about shelter if I planned on sleeping tonight. The canteens now full of water I couldn’t drink, I headed toward camp, hoping to be greeted by the smell of smoke from a nice fire.
No such luck. When I returned, Kip was laid out on the beach, soaking up the sun and enjoying himself. Nothing had been done at camp.
Gritting my teeth, I set to work. First, fire. Then, I could boil water. After that, I’d have to look for shelter of some kind. It was abundantly clear to me that one of us thought he was going to get by on charm alone. Come to think of it, he’d pulled the same stunt last time we’d played and I’d been too besotted to notice. Gullible, gullible Annabelle. Someday, you’d think I’d learn.
So I gathered brush for tinder and dug a fire pit in the sand and lined it with rocks. I gathered wood. By the time I had a decent stack of firewood, the sun was going down and I was too tired to work on the fire itself. We had no flint, so I’d have to make a fire by rubbing sticks together - good ol’ friction. That required a lot more energy than I had at the moment.
With the last of my strength, I went to the edge of the beach and picked up a coconut. They were everywhere, luckily, but I knew that they wouldn’t last. Still, it’d do for today. I’d gotten pretty good at cracking coconuts the last time I played, and I had it open with two well-placed swings. Coconut juice began to dribble onto the sand and I grabbed it and tipped it back to drink the sweet liquid.
“Hey, you going to save some of that for me?” Kip asked.
