A Change of Plans (16 page)

I pointed at myself. “Science teacher.” I rubbed the area around my temple. “Now, if I dared take one of those pain killers in the first aid kit for this headache.”

“You can, if it’s that bad, but it would be better to save them.” Braedon moved his hand as though to touch the back of his head but stopped, pointing at the lagoon instead. “Look at the high water marks. I don’t think this’ll work as a permanent camp.” He gazed around with a critical eye. “And it’s too well hidden to get the attention of passing ships.”

“Maybe we could get the mast off the catamaran and make some kind of flag.”

“We need the sail for ourselves.” As he rose, his stomach growled, and he grimaced. “I’ll gather what I need for a fish trap and set it up in the lagoon.”

“I’ll check for coconuts up on that plateau and get some bananas.”

I watched him until he was out of sight. The pleasant little lagoon area didn’t seem quite so pleasant with him gone. A rustling in the jungle followed by the shriek of a bird made me jump. The beautiful lagoon turned sinister all of a sudden. I was sick and tired of being so jumpy at every little noise. Refusing to succumb to my fear, I forced myself to be slow as I got a quick drink from the waterfall before making my way up the hill—all the time trying to ignore how the hair on my arms stood on end.

The hill opened to a much larger plateau above the falls. The sheared cliff face I had noticed earlier rose what must have been several hundred feet above, making it the highest part of the island. The tree is what caught my eye, though.

“Lyn, you up there?”

“Yeah!” I ran to the edge of the plateau. “I’ve found something else I think you’ll be interested in.”

Braedon bounded up the hill. “Impressive.” He examined the tree’s aerial prop roots.

“It’s a Banyan tree.”

He nodded, running his hand along one of the roots. “We saw some in Hawaii. This thing’s huge. It must span a good thirty feet across.”

“Looks like it might have started out as two trees.” I pointed to the middle. “See that opening at the base? The top has real potential. We’d have a great view from up there, and it’ll be easier to keep watch for ships and planes.”

“Is it just the way the branches have come together, or does it look like some of the middle has already been cleared out?” Braedon pointed to a low section between the top ends of the tree.

Unsure about what he meant, I backed farther away. From there it was obvious. The two ends were definitely taller than the section in the middle. “I think you’re right.”

His stomach rumbled. “I’m starving.” He turned to go down the hill and then glanced back at me. “I’ll go check the trap. That lagoon is full of fish.” His eyes got a wicked gleam. “The rule in Montana is that the catcher of the fish is not the cleaner of the fish.”

Gross. “I’ve never cleaned or gutted a fish. You’ll have to show me—but you’ll also need to teach me how to work your trap, because I have no intention of being the only fish gutter on this island.”

Braedon laughed and jogged down to the lagoon. It was nice to hear him laugh again. I went in search of the fruit.

L
ATE AFTERNOON
had come before we had gathered everything in our new camp. I squeezed out the water from my cover-up. A burst of rain had provided an impromptu shower of sorts, but it hadn’t lasted long enough to do more than rinse off my arms and legs.

I rubbed the parts of my cover-up together, unsure if the red volcanic dust would ever come out. Monsoon showers would do it. I froze. “Please tell me we won’t still be here during the monsoons.”

Braedon paused at testing the strength of one of the Banyan
tree’s lower roots and looked at me. “How much rain will the monsoons bring?”

“If this is like American Samoa, a lot. Some places on Samoa get close to 200 inches a year. But that’s not an answer.”

He frowned and stepped onto the lowest branch of the tree. “I don’t have an answer.”

Not what I wanted to hear. I followed him up the branches, stopping near the top. “So make one up.”

Braedon considered me before giving me a hand over the last branch. “And have you mad at me because my prediction doesn’t come true? No thanks.” He turned to stare at the middle section.

“Why do you assume I’d be mad at you—” I stopped when I saw what held his attention. This part of the tree had indeed been cut ... and a floor built on it. It was old and parts of it were rotting, but it was definitely manmade.

My heart thudded hard as I came to stand beside him. “This is good news, right?”

“Could be.” He walked around the floor, testing sections with his weight. Most of them were solid, but a few crumbled. “If someone built this, then someone knows about the island. But how long ago were they last here?” Braedon asked as he finished checking the flooring. “You game to sleep up here tonight?”

I
SET THE
dinner fruit on a flattish rock, spread a large banana leaf I had cleaned earlier over the surface, and grabbed the machete. The jungle’s lengthening shadows were turning into twisted fingers closing in on the cooking area. If Braedon didn’t
hurry, he would be stumbling around in the dark. He had better not get hurt. I was no doctor.

Just before the last of the light disappeared, Braedon burst over the hill from the lagoon and jogged to the fire with a big grin. “I didn’t think I’d make it before dark.” He set a mesh bag full of fish beside the fire.

I stood and reached over, picking up a large, yellowish-green ball. I held it out to him. “I’ve expanded our diet.”

He took it from me, his brows creased. “What is it?”

“Breadfruit.”

Braedon turned it toward the fire and scrutinized it. “Can you make bread out of it?”

My stomach gurgled. “I wish. It just smells like baking bread when it’s roasted.”

He handed the fruit back to me and picked up the bag of fish. “You’re sure it’s breadfruit? It would be the worst irony to survive everything and die of poisoning.”

I moved to the fire and set the breadfruit onto the edge where the wood glowed. “I told you I studied up for the cruise.”

“That’s impressive. I did a little studying too, but not about stuff like this.”

We worked in a companionable silence, and I considered the waning moon, wondering if we should dare to climb the uneven tree branches in the dark. It was risky, but I didn’t want to sleep on the ground. The nightmares were bad enough without having to fear animals attacking us while we slept. I wasn’t sure, but I felt the jungle hid more than we had seen so far.

Braedon picked up one of the coconuts and brought it closer to the firelight. “This doesn’t resemble store-bought coconuts.”

“Ever seen walnuts on a tree?”

“So we have to get the husk off?” He reached for the ax.

“A screwdriver or a sharp stick works just as well.” I picked up a branch and sat on a large rock, holding the stick in place between my knees. With the coconut on the point, I pushed down. The stick pierced the husk but didn’t go all the way through.

Braedon put his coconut down and came over to help. He held the coconut still while I shoved the stick down hard. The husk split.

“Once we have the husk off, I’ll show you how to crack the inside.” I thought of when Elle and I had done this on my apartment patio, and my eyes began to burn.

“You okay?”

The knot in my throat grew, and I waved my hand, croaking, “Don’t get me going.”

He shoved the stick through the coconut husk again, tearing a piece off. “You should talk about it, you know.”

I shook my head. I hated crying in front of people, and I had already done it too many times the last few days.

Braedon leaned toward me, his eyes glistening in the firelight. “Can’t you see ....” His voice was rough. “Can’t you see you’re not the only one trapped here worrying about friends and family?” He swore softly and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry you’re stuck here with me. I’m sure you’d have preferred Jori.”

I burst out laughing, my sorrow forgotten. “Are you jealous of Jori?”

Braedon shifted uncomfortably.

I stopped laughing. He was. “I love Jori like a brother, but he’d be worthless here. He told me once he’s never been camping. Ever. His idea of roughing it is a four-star hotel.” I
gave Braedon a soft push before handing him back the coconut. “Can you imagine me being the knowledgeable one here?”

Braedon’s shoulders relaxed. “You’re not doing so bad.” He pointed at the stick I held. “Our knowledge is pretty complimentary.”

Once we had the husks off the two coconuts, I showed him the three coconut ‘eyes’ on the shells. Following my instructions, he rapped the coconut hard four times on those spots, turning it in his hand after each blow.

The juice ran between his fingers and spilled into the bucket. He licked his fingers. “I thought coconut milk would be sweeter.”

“That’s coconut water. You get coconut milk from the meat, and it’s a much more complicated process.” I peered at the tall trees surrounding our cooking area. “The water is sweeter in young coconuts, and it’s very nutritious, which we’ll need. But the younger ones are still in the trees.”

While Braedon went to work on the second coconut, I used the screwdriver to pry the meat from the cracked one. It was harder than I had thought. I ended up with only a single, intact half-shell. “We could use this as a cup or bowl.”

Braedon considered the shell. “Our first step toward some kind of civilization.”

CHAPTER 16

W
E SPENT
the next two weeks doing little more than keeping watch, either on the beach or in the tree. No signs at all. Not even a glimpse of a plane or a teasing shadow on the horizon to give us some hope, even if false.

Silent, we sat side by side on the tree’s floor, watching the sun set on yet another day. I wanted to cry. I was dirty. I stank. Braedon stank. He wasn’t supposed to. He was supposed to smell like shampoo and his yummy cologne.

I lay my head on my bent knees, my face toward him. He had been quiet all day, and the red glow of the sun made his sunburned face seem redder than normal, fatigue making him look older. His eyes met mine.

“How long?” I asked.

“Until what?”

The last bit of sun dropped over the horizon, washing away the light. Until the moon rose, we were almost blind. I could just make out Braedon’s form. “How long will they look for us?”

“How would I know?” He didn’t even try to sound pleasant. “I wish you wouldn’t act like I know everything.”

What a jerk. “Aw, poor Braedon. Does that happen to you a lot? Weak women thinking you know everything?”

He stiffened, and I thought I heard him open his mouth and then snap it shut. With a sigh, he rubbed his face and straightened, popping his back. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

“Then don’t throw the first punch.”

Braedon laughed. “Is that what you thought it was?”

I gathered my dignity about me like a cloak. “I was asking your opinion, not expecting you to spew wisdom based on your extensive experience of being shipwrecked. I thought having lived near the ocean you might have heard about searches for people lost at sea.”

He heaved a sigh. “Point taken, but I don’t appreciate the jab about weak women. I’ve spent my life around strong women, now being no exception.” Standing, he touched my shoulder. I hesitated but took the hand he offered, and he pulled me to my feet. He kept my hand in his as we made our way to the center of the small shelter we had made from the sail and a pile of leaves.

The evening breeze increased, bringing with it the smell of flowers and rain. I stared into the darkness. “They’re not coming.”

He didn’t say anything at first. “No,” he finally said, his voice tight. It was clear he didn’t want to talk about it.

Rolling over so my back was to him, I watched the moon rise over the trees. We had two options. We could stay here, or we could rescue ourselves. A knot formed in my throat. At night, in the dark, with nightmares waiting for me to fall asleep, it was hard to consider going out on the ocean again.

Clouds swallowed the stars and the moon, and finally raindrops smacked against the sail above us. I scooted farther
under the sail, away from the rain splatters. I froze when my foot brushed Braedon’s.