Chapter VIII
My God, this can't be happening. Had he blacked out? Thad lifted his head, and he blinked slowly, running a hand through his hair. He stretched his neck muscles, then immediately unbuckled and reached over for his wife. She was slumped forward against the back of the seat in front of her.
"Phyl! Phyl!" As he unwound himself from the small seat and climbed across the aisle, a sharp pain in his upper leg caused him to wince, and he heard the plane groan beneath him, and the sounds of branches scraping and snapping against the plane. "Phyl, can you hear me?" He felt his chest constrict and a feeling come over him akin to panic as he knelt beside her and felt for a pulse and was relieved to feel the beautiful cadence of her heartbeat. He glanced quickly toward the cockpit and was puzzled to see that Matt was nowhere to be seen and the cabin door was open. He turned his attention back to his unconscious wife, relieved that he could see no signs of blood on her face or forehead as he carefully checked her out.
"What the...?" He suddenly lost his balance as the plane shuddered, tilting more to the right. Leaning over Phyl, he peered through the small oval window to her left, alarmed to see that the plane had ended up wedged in a group of trees, at least twenty feet up. He could just see the ground through the mass of thick branches, but the plane was not level, and with the nose downward, he was pretty sure it would continue its path until it settled in or reached the ground. There was no gasoline smell and that reassured him. He grabbed the back of the seat and planted his feet as the Cessna shuddered and shifted again and he knew that he had to get her out of the plane as quickly as he could. He looked around him then down at Phyl. This was going to be a nightmare getting her down safely, but it was his only choice...and he had no time.
Making the least movement possible, Thad squatted down beside her and gently unbuckled the seatbelt, then leaned her back, tilting her towards him as he wedged his left shoulder under her torso. He shifted her limp body over his shoulder, as he felt the plane shudder and groan again, then held onto her dangling arm, and raised up, her head now resting on his upper back. This would not be easy. He was sweating profusely in the hot plane, and he quickly let go of her arm to wipe his palm on his shorts, then held her damp arm again, and, crouching over, headed slowly toward the exit to his left, beyond the next set of seats. He suddenly remembered her shoulder bag and quickly scanned the floor of the plane. No time to look for it now. He'd have to leave it. That was the least of his concerns right now. The plane lurched and suddenly dropped nose first, causing him to stagger and almost fall forward. He let go of her arm to grab a headrest and planted his sandals against the base of the seat, re-shifting his wife on his shoulder.
"All right, all right. You can do this," he muttered as he righted himself, taking hold of her arm, and he moved gingerly forward toward the open door. He glanced into the cockpit and saw blood on the cracked windshield, and as he turned to the door, saw a bloody hand print on the top of the exit. Where was that damn pilot and why had he left them to fend for themselves?
Thad stood at the cabin door, holding the metal frame with his right hand and looked out and down into a mass of wide, thick branches, with large, glossy leaves. The trees were laden with a fruit that he didn't recognize, and although he had no clue what species of trees they had landed in, he was just thankful that they hadn't been palm trees. Twenty feet or so to the ground. But how to traverse the branches so as not to dislodge the plane?And get as far away from the plane as possible? He shifted Phyl's weight a little and decided that his best course would obviously be forward to the next tree, away from the plane which was pointing down toward his right and back. He took a deep breath, and feeling the plane shudder under his feet, tightened his grip on her upper legs, and held her close to his chest. He closed his eyes for a split-second, then he opened them and let go of the cabin door, and leaned out, grabbing the first limb he could reach. There. Now he had to do it. He had to step out with her. The plane shuddered once more beneath them, and he felt it drop to his right and he reached one leg out, managing to grab a foothold on another limb close to the thick trunk, and pushed himself out onto it. The limb felt sturdy even though it gave a little under their weight. He could waste no time now. Get down fast. He peered down and over and chose the next branch away from the plane. As he secured his position on the branch and checked on Phyl, whose skin was now as wet and slippery as his own, he heard a creaking sound and looked over to see the plane drop nose first another few feet. He held onto Phyl tightly, and quickly managed to climb down a few more limbs until he was relieved to see the ground pretty close beneath them. He could make it. Not far to go now. Keeping Phyl safe was all he could think about. He needed to make sure she was all right. Damn - it was hot. He quickly let go of the branch and swiped his hand across his brow and over his eyes, drying his hand on his pants. He replanted his sandal and winced again at the stabbing pain in his leg, and as he maneuvered himself down, took care to make sure that Phyl's pony tail didn't get tangled in the smaller branches. He would have to swing them both down from this last thick branch, and he paused for a moment to catch his breath. He thought he'd felt her stir at one point as he scrambled down a few branches up. He squatted on the thickest part nearest the trunk of the lowest hanging branch and extended one leg until he was sitting, and he reached across for a moment to rub her back, then held onto a thick offshoot and swung himself down to the ground. He readjusted her torso on his shoulder, debating for a moment whether or not to carry her across his arms then thought better of it, deciding he might need his other hand at some point. He heard a loud splitting and squealing and tuned to see the plane shudder, its nose dipping another few feet toward the ground. He turned back around and figured that since the plane had banked and turned northward before crashing that he should head to the west, toward the beach. Who knew what lay on the eastern side of the plane. As he trudged through the woods in his sandals, he felt Phyl stir again and at that moment saw her tan shoulder bag and its contents strewn in the underbrush to his right. What the hell? That damn pilot had stolen her purse.
Thad heard the sound of the ocean and felt his chest constrict. He had to get her to a hospital, but he had no clue what island they were on. At the very least, she had suffered a concussion. He tried to visualize the map of the Bahama Islands from that book he had been reading in the hotel and tried to figure where they would be after fifteen minutes of air travel to the south. He remembered seeing some islands to the east between the Grand Bahama Island and New Providence Island. Think...think. He swiped away the sweat dripping into his eyes and exhaled. It began with an A. He was sure of it. A short name. Picture it. Picture it. Was there a town on this side of the island? He had seen earlier that it was around eleven in the morning. There should be a search party out looking for them at this point, he imagined. Leaving the woods and setting foot on the beach, he walked out onto the hot sand, lifting his face to feel the warm, but refreshing breeze, and he squinted in the bright sunlight as he looked out over the serene view with the gorgeous turquoise- blue of the ocean, the small white clouds drifting across the horizon, and the small waves washing up on shore. He peered to his left and right. Nothing but beach as far as he could see. Spying a small alcove of trees for shade to his left, he trudged through the sand, holding tight to her legs. When he reached the cooler spot, he knelt and carefully reached back and cradled Phyl's head as he lifted her off his shoulder and leaned her against a tree trunk, making sure she was secure and wouldn't fall over. Thank God her breathing seemed normal. He sat beside her, leaning forward slightly, his elbows on his raised knees, trying to calm himself, letting the breeze dry off the sweat. He rubbed his jaw as he gazed at her still form, and he took a deep breath as he contemplated their surviving a plane crash. She was his life and he would do everything in his power to make sure she made it home safely. Damn, he had to make a decision on his next move. He needed to get help, but he would stay with her. No debate on that. Until she came to and could hopefully
walk with him. The beach was their best bet right now. He leaned back against the tree next to her, trying to get the picture of the island in his head again. Damn. Why hadn't he paid more attention when he was looking over the map. He ran his hand through his short wet hair, and down his bearded jaw. Well, they were in a decent spot to be seen by any rescuers and with Phyl's red blouse and black pants, they would be pretty visible against the beach. He was just a little more than curious about the pilot, though.
Thad turned his head around sharply as he heard her almost inaudible moan. He moved to her side and knelt down in time to see her eyes flutter open and she moaned again as she squinted her eyes and reached her hand up shakily to feel her forehead.
"Take it easy, I'm here." Thad pushed the wet strands of her hair back gently from her damp forehead and temples. "The plane crashed in some trees, which was very fortunate for us. It could have been much worse." She nodded, blinking slowly as she turned to face him.
"I remember," she whispered.
"Where do you hurt?" He narrowed his eyes as he peered worriedly into hers.
"My head." She touched the top of her head, then let her hand drop to her side.
"Phyl, you more than likely have a concussion." Thad scanned her face. "We need to just rest here for a while."
"One of these days, I'll rescue you." He saw her beautiful brown eyes sparkle for just an instant as she smiled at him, and he narrowed his eyes at her.
"Don't you know, my love?" he whispered, gazing at her somberly. "You already have." He felt his eyes sting as she reached out and rubbed his arm. He knew that he needed to keep his emotions in check, and they stared at each other for a moment.
"Thad, don't you think someone should be looking for us by now?" Phyl's voice was soft as she broke the silence.
"Yes, I do. We're only about fifteen minutes south of the Grand Bahama Island and we heard the pilot talking to the tower. Someone knows we should have landed in Nassau by now."
"Abaco." He heard her whisper.
"What?"
"The islands of Abaco." Her voice sounded a little stronger to him now. "I recognized them before we crashed."
"You're brilliant." He gently rested his hands on the sides of her face and kissed her forehead. "I'm glad you remembered it. I couldn't for the life of me." He smiled softly as he gazed at her, noticing that she was blinking more steadily and looking more like herself. He watched, his lips pursed as he saw her take a deep breath and look up at him, a weak smile on her lips. "Good, good." He wanted to keep her alert. "What else do you know about Abaco?"
She leaned her head back against the tree and exhaled. "Well, there are several islands in the Abaco group, so we don't know which one we're on. Except it was the most northern island. The first one we saw, we know that. The islands have a higher elevation than Grand Bahamas or New Providence and they're formed from limestone." She glanced upward, a surprised look on her face. "Oh...mango trees."
"Mango!" Thad laughed as he looked up at the golden oval fruit. "I couldn't remember what it was. We are more than lucky that we crashed here. Some of these trees on the island are huge."
"I remember reading somewhere that mango trees can grow up to one hundred and fifty feet high and live up to three hundred years." She gazed toward the beach. "It's beautiful here, isn't it?"
"That is strictly your opinion," he laughed. "I'm planning on petitioning Webster to change the definition of 'paradise' in the dictionary to 'hell on earth'." He saw her laugh softly, and was glad that he could lighten the mood, and he reached over and rubbed her shoulder, so very relieved to see her returning to her normal self. "Do you know if these islands are inhabited?"
"The outer, smaller islands aren't. The larger ones have a few towns. By the way, I know all of this because I read a lot about the Bahamas while you were napping on our second flight from Atlanta." She smiled at him.
He sat back on his haunches, impressed and thankful that she was coherent. "Well, on the bright side, we'll have something to eat while we wait to be rescued."
He saw her raise her head abruptly and look around her. "Where's Matt?"
"That bastard left us in the plane, and stole your tan bag." He saw her eyes flash wide. "The contents are all over the ground back there. I saw blood on the windshield, so he's injured."
"I wonder where he is. And why he left us." Phyl stretched her neck a little. "He seemed so nice."
"Yes, he did," he exhaled loudly. "Perhaps he's gone for help since we were unconscious. But that doesn't explain his stealing your bag." Thad stood up. "I'm going to grab us something to eat." He walked a couple of steps into the group of trees, emerging with two large mangoes, and made himself comfortable beside her. "All right, let's see if I can peel these." He started digging his thumbnails into the thick rind.
"I have a nail file in my bag." Phyl offered. "So you were knocked out too?"
"Yes, for a few minutes, I think." He glanced over at her seriously. "I'm not leaving you, Phyl. Don't even think about it." He let out a whoop as he pierced the rind and began peeling it off the fruit as juice dripped down his hands. "Success. Here, can you handle this?" He passed over the slippery fruit as she nodded her assent, and she leaned back against the tree and took a bite of the velvety fruit. As Thad dug into the second mango, he looked at her and smiled as he saw the juice drip down her chin and onto her chest.
"Umm..m. Here, try it." She leaned forward and held out the mango, and he laughingly bit off a small chunk, and felt the juice trickle down his beard and drip onto his shirt. His eyes narrowed as he watched her continue to eat. How lucky they were. The odds of surviving a crash in a small plane were not good, he was sure. It lifted his spirits to see her returning to normal. Perhaps, after a while longer, he would see if she could walk back with him to gather up the contents of her purse.
They ate together in silence. Thad threw the mango cores into the woods, and ran down to the beach, relieved that he no longer felt the pain in his leg, and he leaned over the water as he rinsed off his arms and face. He scooped up some of the water in his cupped hands and ran back to her and poured what little bit was left on her chin and chest, and she laughed with him as she quickly wiped off the sticky juice. He saw her face change in an instant to a look of confusion as she looked past him toward the ocean.
"Matt?"
Thad swung his head around and saw the pilot standing on the beach about fifteen feet from them, a serrated survival knife in his hand.
"Sit down." Matt motioned to Thad with the blade. Thad stood up instead and exhaled. He placed his hands on his hips and continued to stand, shielding his wife as he watched the man with consternation. "I said, sit down." Matt raised his voice, motioning more forcefully with the weapon.
"It's okay, Thad." Phyl whispered, and he looked back down at her and she nodded at him. He reluctantly sat down next to her, resting his arms on his raised knees, eyeing the man.
"Where are they?" Matt's face was flushed and sweaty, his hair disheveled, and Thad could see the large gash on his forehead and the dried blood down the side of his face.
"We don't know what you're referring to." Thad's deep voice was calm. So he was looking for something specific in Phyl's purse. He glanced at Phyl and was glad that she seemed calm, but like himself, confused.
"The papers on Sullivan. They said you had them." Matt rubbed the sweat from his eyes with his free hand and moved a few feet closer. Thad noticed out of the corner of his eye that Phyl had tensed slightly, and noted that the man's forehead looked pretty bad, and his speech seemed slightly slurred.
"You need medical attention, Matt, and so does Phyl." Thad spoke clearly and calmly. "We need to get off the island or find a medical facility."
"Ha.. " Matt shot back, stumbling a couple of feet toward them. "There are no people on this island, and the plane's communication system is out."
"How long do you think it will be before help arrives from Lucaya?" Thad needed to keep him talking and calm, but Matt
burst out laughing, then coughed, moving even closer. Thad watched him intently, keeping his eyes on his uneven gait.
"No one's coming for you."
"Didn't you file a ...."
"...a flight plan?" Matt interrupted him and laughed. "No, it was taken care of. There are ways to camouflage a flight." He coughed again.
Thad glanced quickly at Phyl, at his watch and then back at the pilot, his brows narrowing as he again studied the man's ankles. The man stood there, watching them, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and they fell into a silence. At least they were in the shade, whereas Matt was in full sun. Thad watched him wipe the sweat off his face repeatedly and slant his eyes toward the ocean from time to time. A good thirty minutes passed with the pilot holding the knife on them as they sat quietly. Thad watched the pilot's ankle buckle under him every so often, and he wondered what or who the hell this guy was waiting for. He couldn't continue to stand for much longer. They just needed to wait him out.
"Matt, did you crash the plane on purpose?" Phyl's voice was quiet.
"No, ma'am," he laughed and squinted down at her. "That was not part of the plan. At least not part of my plan." He moved closer, pointing the blade toward them. Thad's eyes scanned the loose sand around his feet as he neared. "For all I know, they rigged the plane so everything would go up in flames."
"They?" Thad wanted him to get a few feet closer. That was all he needed. Keep him talking and moving. Bide your time.
"I can't say any more." Matt wiped his brow again, coughed and spit on the sand beside him. Another foot. Come on. Thad shot a quick glance over to Phyl and pursed his lips, slanting his eyes over quickly to Matt's feet.
"So they wanted you dead as well as us?" Thad mumbled, lowering his voice and he saw Matt squint at him. Move, damn it. Move now.
"What did you say?" Matt put his foot out to move closer.
"Is that a boat?" Phyl shouted and Matt turned his head toward the ocean. In that instant, Thad swung his arm out, catching the man at his ankles, and he fell backwards, his arms flailing out beside him. Before Matt could react, Thad bolted up and pinned him down with his knees, grabbing the knife, and sliding it out of his reach.
"Sorry about this." Thad punched him a couple of times in the jaw until he was satisfied that he had passed out, then he leaned back and looked around for Phyl, seeing that she had gotten up and had retrieved the knife, holding it as she stood a little apart from them. Thad nodded at her and smiled, as he wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his wrist. "I hated to punch an injured man." He shook his head. "Tell me again that this is paradise," he laughed sarcastically and looked around him as he straddled the unconscious man. "I need something to tie him with." He took a deep breath and exhaled, seeing Phyl look around.
"Use his shirt, Thad."
"Of course." Thad shook his head, both amused and annoyed at himself, and he un-buttoned the man's colorful, island-themed shirt and slid it off his arms and torso. He stood up and dragged Matt over into their alcove, into the shade, and turned him over on his stomach, pulling his arms behind his back. He started to tie his wrists then paused, and tore the middle of the collar with his teeth and ripped the shirt down the back. He securely tied Matt's wrists behind his back with one half of the shirt and used the other half to tie his ankles. He searched his pockets, pulling out some ID, which he stuck in his own pocket, but nothing else of interest, then stood up and walked over to Phyl, looking down at her as he put his hands on his hips and shook his head.
"You diverted him at the perfect time, you know." He squinted at her, smiling appreciatively.
"I know." She smiled at him as she handed him the knife, and he grinned at her as he tried to slow his breathing and racing heart. He was ecstatic to see her appear to be so much better. "You can carry this, if you don't mind."
"We could have used this for the mangoes," he laughed, and looked down at her, searching her eyes. "How are you feeling? "
"Glad that you're all right." He nodded back at her soberly and rubbed his thumb along her chin.
"Well, now we have to figure out a plan." Thad slid the knife blade through a belt loop on his pants. "I hate to leave him here, but we have no choice." He looked her over, hands back on his hips, his dark eyes full of concern. "Do you feel strong enough to walk now?"
"Yes, I feel much better, actually."
"Vision normal?"
"Yes."
He reached for her hand, and pressed his lips tenderly on her upturned palm. He raised his head and gazed at her for a moment, suddenly feeling a twinge of emotion that he knew he had to keep in check.
"Let's head back to the plane then, and get your bag." Thad smiled and motioned toward the woods. "We'll take it slow."
"Shouldn't there be some sort of survival kit in the plane?"
"My thoughts exactly." He smiled down at her as they headed toward the woods. "I'm hoping that the plane has settled in by now." He squinted at her. "You know, Phyl, we are pretty close to civilization, relatively speaking, and someone has to know we didn't arrive in Nassau. I feel that we'll be rescued sometime today, or early tomorrow at the latest."
"I agree." They walked slowly through the trees, hand in hand. "I'm not worried about that aspect of it. Scott and Leah may have already called the hotel with news about Jonathan. If they learn we haven't checked in, I know they'll be concerned."
"And, consider all the planes and boats that cross over these waters on the island's western side, so someone is bound to see us." Thad added. "Someone may have seen the plane in trouble and is on the way here now." They reached the site of the crash. "There should be flares on board, and we can build a fire on the beach. We have quite a few options."
"Oh my goodness," Phyl gasped at the sight of the battered plane, nestled about ten feet off the ground, nose down and askew, the wing on their side tilting dramatically upward, above their heads.
"It was actually about ten feet higher than that when we exited." He looked over at her. "And still moving downward."
"You carried me down from there?" she exhaled loudly. "Thad, how on earth did you manage?"
He took a deep breath, shaking his head at her. "The first step out was the hardest. I hardly remember the rest." He pursed his lips, watching her return to study the plane. While she gazed at the plane, he quickly gathered up the contents of her shoulder bag, shaking out and rolling up the clothes. "I'm going back up to look for supplies." He pulled the knife from his waistband and handed it to her. "Hold on to this and sit where you can see the plane and our path from the beach." He saw her nod, and look around her for the best spot, and he laid the bag next to her as she sat down on a large fallen limb. "I'm surprised the recorder wasn't taken. Can you tell if everything else is still there?"
"It looks like everything is here."
"Good. Well, let me get in that plane." He started the short climb up to the entrance to the cabin after picking the best spot to start and found that he had no problem traversing the limbs. With a last glance and quick wave down at Phyl, who was looking up at him intently, he entered the cabin and immediately noticed that it didn't shift as much as before, and of that he was glad. He could take his time looking for what they needed. What he told Phyl was true. He really had felt that they would be rescued quickly, but now he was beginning to think that it wouldn't hurt for them to plan for a night's stay on the beach. Each hour that passed made that prospect more plausible. A rescue party wouldn't come out after dark, and the afternoon was passing quickly. He hoped that the plane had a good survival kit, and he scanned the cabin to his right, then turned to check out the cockpit first. He rummaged around and found a flashlight, and out of the corner of his eye spied dangling wires that, upon inspection, appeared to be cleanly cut. Damn. So Matt had snipped the wires to the radio. Why would he cut these wires? He narrowed his eyes as he realized that they would have run to the radio. That didn't make any sense. Why would he cut off their only means of communication? Unless. Unless he had
already called for help for himself while they were unconscious and then planned on leaving them here. Thad glanced worriedly out of the cracked and bloody windshield and saw that Phyl had laid the knife across her knee, and was looking through her bag. He needed to make this quick now and get back down to her. He spun around, thankful that the plane seemed stable, and hurried back to the cabin to find the kit. After a few minutes of searching, he found a large, black, waterproof backpack, filled with various supplies, as well as a medical kit, and two large blankets. Thank God. He wasn't sure what the requirements were for commercial plane survival kits, but this looked to be more than adequate. He shrugged his arms through the backpack, bundled up the blankets around the kit and headed for the exit. He paused at the door, looking down for Phyl, and saw that she had turned her head toward the beach, and was now holding the knife up from her knee. He took the first step out and navigated the limbs quickly.
"Phyl, what's wrong?" he whispered as he approached her and she spun around as if surprised.
"I thought I heard noises and talking," she whispered and turned back toward the beach. "Thad, for a moment I could have sworn I heard a motorboat."
"Okay. Let's think this through. We kind of got side-tracked after the incident with Matt." Thad set the blankets and medical kit on the limb beside her, then wiped his damp brow with his hand. "Matt told us the plane's communication was down, but Phyl, I just saw that he had cut the radio wires." He saw her look of astonishment as he took the knife from her outstretched hand and stuck it back in the belt loop of his pants. "If he had contacted his friends in Lucaya, we certainly don't want to meet up with them."
"They must be Sullivan's men," Phyl whispered. "Why would they think that we have Jonathan's proof of Sullivan's illegal activities?"
"I wonder if we've been followed since we got to Nassau." Thad kept his voice low and his eyes and ears peeled toward the beach. "Now I'm thinking that we inadvertently led them to Jonathan." He looked at her as she took a deep breath and gazed at him with a look of dismay.
"I hate to think that we brought him harm," she sighed. "But, now,Thad, they've been after us. I wonder if the agent at the Freeport Airport was in on it. It was such a coincidence that Matt showed up at the perfect time."
"I wouldn't doubt it, now that you mention it," he whispered. "The plane we were booked on was probably sitting right behind the airport when we got there."
"Jonathan was right. I have a feeling that one of the young police officers was involved too. There was just something about the way he looked at us." She peered up at him, then turned her gaze toward the beach. "Thad, I hear a motor again."
"So do I. Let's check it out." Thad shrugged out of the backpack, laying it beside the limb and grabbed her hand. They crept as quietly as they could manage with the underbrush and headed toward the beach, hearing no more sounds, and they emerged onto the white sand, squinting in the bright sunshine.
"I see a boat, Thad. There." Phyl pointed to her right and he squinted and nodded, shielding his eyes from the glare.
"Son of a....." Thad's voice trailed off and he exhaled, hands on his hips as he looked back and saw Matt's colorful bindings laying on the sand near the trees. "Well, let's hope they don't come back before we're rescued. Let's check out that survival kit. We need to make our whereabouts known."
"I'll try not to worry that the wrong people will show up now to rescue us."
Thad squinted his dark eyes down at her soberly, then rubbed his beard. "I think we'll be okay. They didn't bother to look for us."
"Actually, I'm glad to see him go." Phyl laughed up at him, then scanned the beach to either side. "Look at all the footprints in the sand, Thad. And there are more over there. Those aren't human, though. Maybe large bird tracks?"
"Maybe, it's hard to tell." He squinted toward the area beyond them to their right. "Well, let's check out the backpack, and see what we can do." Thad put his arm around her shoulder and they turned and headed back into the thick woods to get the supplies. They reached the plane and stopped for a moment to rest.
"Thad, I'm having second thoughts about the western beach."
"Because of Sullivan's men?"
"Yes, I think we should walk to the beach on the eastern side and use our flares there."
He peered down at her intently. "Well, that would make sense." He rubbed his bearded jaw as he thought about it. "You said that there are some towns on the islands to the east, which would be closer to us."
"Yes, there are, and the outer, uninhabited islands are not that large. Maybe two or three miles long north to south and even shorter west to east." She looked at the trees beyond the plane. "Maybe, instead of going uphill through the woods, we could just follow the beach around, if it goes all the way around, that is. It might take longer, but it would be an easier walk."
"On the other hand, we'll be leaving a trail, in case Sullivan's men do return." He lowered his brows as he looked down at her. "And, it's shorter through the woods." He started consolidating the supplies into the backpack. "We need to make a decision."
"You're right about Sullivan's men," she conceded, as she picked up her shoulder bag. "Let's head east, through the woods."
"You shouldn't carry anything, Phyl." He reached over and gently took her shoulder bag from her outstretched hand, and he raised his brows upon seeing her slant her eyes at him. "What?" He laughed at her annoyed expression as he hoisted it on his shoulder. "Nothing for you, my love."
"Thad."
"I will not let you carry anything until I know you're better, so don't even entertain the idea of arguing with me on that point," he smiled at her. He loved her spirit and tenacity, but he could be as stubborn as she when the need arose. "Just walking will be tiring enough for you right now."
"All right, but my head doesn't hurt right now," she sighed. "I do want to pull my weight, you know."
"I know that." He shrugged his arms through the backpack and picked up the blankets and they headed past the plane into the dense trees. "And, I'm sure you will, at some point." He peered down at her, his dark eyes narrowed in a half-wink and she shook her head at him and laughed.
"I'll give you this one...for now."
"You'd better." He saw her glance at her watch.
"It's a little after two, Thad."
"Hopefully, we'll be on the other side of the island within a couple of hours."
"You know, Thad," Phyl mused as she stepped over a branch. "If Jonathan's shooter, possibly one of the officers, the man at the airport counter, and Matt are all working for Sullivan and are looking for those incriminating papers, who on earth would Kristin's kidnappers have been?" Phyl mused. "There seem to be two sets of bad guys in play here."
"Let's think about this." Thad shifted the backpack into a more comfortable position as they took their time, having to weave in and out among the large mango trees. "Kristin must have been kidnapped by someone wanting revenge against Sullivan, but we don't know the reason behind it."
"Okay, so what if Sullivan, who Jonathan said is a very unpleasant man, made someone within his company angry at him. So angry, he would be willing to do something so awful as kidnapping his daughter?"
"That's a possibility. By the way, what business is Sullivan in?"
"You know, I have no clue. Jonathan never told me." Phyl looked up at him, then stopped in her tracks.
"What's wrong?" Thad stopped as well, peering down at her as she tilted her head to the side.
"Did you hear that?"
"No, what?"
"It's an animal sound. But I can't pinpoint what it is." She gazed at him worriedly, and continued to listen, then pointed to her right. "Something is moving over there, Thad, beyond that group of mango trees."
"I see it." They stood still, waiting to see if anything appeared. The underbrush beyond the group of trees rustled softly, and the odd noises increased in volume and regularity. They stared at the movement, and Thad pulled out the knife, and stood close to her protectively,
as they waited. Phyl held her breath as the brush parted, then suppressed a laugh as a small pig emerged from the thicket.
"Aww, Thad,there are pigs on the island." Phyl saw three more pigs stroll out of the underbrush, grunting in turn, and the four small animals meandered past them, seemingly unbothered by the intruders on their island.
"Umm..mm, I can smell it now. Bacon sizzling in a pan over an open fire..."
"Thad, we're not touching those sweet pigs," she asserted, turning to him, knowing full well that he was teasing her.
"I wouldn't think of it, Phyl," he chuckled, and she narrowed her eyes at him.
"They certainly seem harmless, don't they?" she laughed, watching them enter another thicket of weeds.
"With our luck this week, I guess we should be thankful that they weren't wild boars." Thad smiled and reinserted his knife in the belt loop, and they moved on.
"What had you asked me?" Phyl glanced up at him, and wiped her forehead as they continued their trek through the sweltering woods.
"What type of business Sullivan is in."
"The only thing I know about the Sullivan Institute is that there are several locations. There are offices in Brussels, here in the Bahamas, in Singapore, and somewhere in the states. I don't recall which one."
"Scott and Leah must have known." Thad exhaled. "I wish we had thought to ask them."
"It's too late now."
"Let's say that the kidnapper was not part of the Sullivan Institute, but had something against whoever was running the illegal operation within the institute." Thad shifted the blankets to one arm and held a low limb up for her to pass under.
"And, if you think about it, there are only a few world-wide illegal operations that are really lucrative. Drug smuggling or gun-running would be my guesses."
"And since it's the Sullivan Institute, I'm thinking that it may have something to do with medical research or pharmaceuticals, which would lend itself as a cover for illegal drugs." Thad mused.
After walking for over an hour, he was glad that they were taking their time getting through the dense, sweltering, tropical forest, and was somewhat surprised as they went along that in some instances the terrain required more of a climb than they had anticipated. Despite her protests, he insisted that she sit and rest more than once. He didn't want to take any chances with her head injury. At each stop, they each took small sips from the one, large bottle of water he had found in the backpack .
"Getting back to Sullivan," Thad continued their conversation as they resumed their trek after the last break. "The two incidents may have intersected coincidentally."
"That makes sense. Whoever Sullivan is dealing with kidnaps his daughter because of some internal problems, then Sullivan goes after Jonathan for finding proof of his illegal activities, almost at the same time."
"When you think about it, Phyl, whoever took Kristin wouldn't want their dealings with Sullivan known either because it would expose them, and Jonathan was a witness to the kidnapping, so who did Jonathan's shooter in Lucaya work for, do you think? It could be either Sullivan or his partners."
"My feeling is that it's Sullivan's men." Phyl slanted her eyes up at him.
"Although, Kristin could have told the kidnapper that Jonathan had proof of Sullivan's activities." Thad looked down at her. "According to him, she was the only one he told."
"That's right. You know, I think the kidnapper shot at Jonathan in the apartment because he was a witness, not because of any papers he had. They wouldn't have known he had the proof at that point."
"I can see the ocean now."
"Well, two and a half hours. Not bad, I guess." Phyl checked her watch.
"We have plenty of time before dark to find a good spot for the night and get settled in."
They carefully navigated the slightly rocky descent from the higher elevation of the woods on the eastern side of the island, and emerged onto a beach just as beautiful as the one they had left. As they set foot on the sand, he saw her breathe in the ocean air and gaze around her, a look of contentment on her face.
"Thad, it's almost impossible to think about what happened in Lucaya and the plane crash now." She shook her head and sighed. "You can't help but be rejuvenated by the beauty of this place. Oh, look, there are little pig prints in the sand. Those must have been their tracks on the other beach as well."
"Unfortunately, we can't be lulled into complacency or let our guard down." He squinted his eyes as he scanned the beach on either side.
"Of course not." She turned to him and smiled. "But, if we're going to be stranded for a while, this is most definitely the ideal location."
"That next island looks pretty close." Thad extended his arm to point to the horizon. "Perhaps that one is inhabited."
"We can only hope. How far away do you think it is. Ten miles maybe?"
"I'm inclined to estimate a little less than that. Six or seven miles. But we could both be wrong." Thad hoisted the backpack higher on his back and peered to his right.
"What do you think about walking farther south down the beach to look for a better spot?" He saw her wipe her brow as she looked up at him.
"I'm soaking wet anyway, what's a few more minutes?" They headed down to the packed sand near the water's edge and walked another fifteen minutes, checking out the terrain for the best location from that vantage point. "Thad, look over there." He swung his head to look in the direction she was pointing. "That secluded area is raised a little from the beach and seems perfect to me."
"Looks good to me. Let's get over and set up." He turned toward the spot she had indicated. "I'm anxious to check out the supplies."
Thad spread out one of the blankets in the alcove under the mango trees and they removed their sandals, brushed off their feet, and sat down, enjoying the warm, strong breeze on their damp faces as he opened the backpack.
"Two plastic ponchos, four flares, a signal mirror, signal whistle, water-proof matches, fire starter..." Thad lined up the items as he pulled them out of the bag. "...a small stove, metal plates and utensils, insect repellent, sunscreen."
"Thad, I know we're stranded, but we could be really comfortable here for a few days." Phyl laughed as she pulled out a stainless steel cup with a long handle. "And, look. A fishing kit." She held up the bag that held anything they could possibly need to catch their own fish. "and...a smaller knife, a compass, heavy-duty tape..." She held up a small roll of toilet tissue. "Now, I wonder why there's only one roll of this precious commodity." He joined in her laughter, glad to see that she seemed to feel so much better.
"I need to check out that medical kit." He opened the white plastic container. "This looks to be pretty complete." He smiled across at her as he knelt and organized the supplies. "I think our first order of business is to build a bonfire, and set off a couple of flares." He grabbed the necessary items.
"The sun is too far west to use the signal mirror, but I'll try it first thing in the morning. We'll need something to sleep on if we're here overnight." Phyl stood up as he did. "I'll look around for some branches to build a backrest. We can cover that with one of the blankets and use the ponchos as a canopy."
"Sounds good." He put his hand on his hip and eyed her, half-winking at her. "Hmm..mm. Another night alone on a deserted beach. Brings back memories." He raised his brows playfully, and he smiled as she laughed at the notion.
"Ha. The last time we were on a deserted beach, we were able to walk back to our luxurious hotel room and have a glass of wine before sinking into our beautiful, soft bed." She nodded down at the backpack. "I didn't see a bottle of wine in the supplies either, and I think the nearest hotel is many, many miles across that ocean." She laughed at the absurdity of it all.
"You're right, of course," he mused, continuing their lighthearted banter, as he started picking up small limbs on the edge of the woods and stripping them of their leaves. "I guess we'll have to settle for a bottle of water, and a bed made out of branches." He stopped and looked over at her as
she dragged a long limb over to their alcove, and arranged it horizontally between two trees. "Do you need any help with that, Phyl? I don't think you should overdo it after all the walking."
"I'm fine."
He watched her as she started dragging another limb over to their alcove, his lips pursed, knowing he was fighting a losing battle on this score, then he exhaled, and started scooping out a basin in the sand several feet from their alcove and arranging the kindling to his liking. Squatting by the fire pit, he pulled out a match from the box he had put in his pants pocket and struck the red phosphorus tip on a rock, quickly holding the crackling flame under the smallest twigs.
"Is it catching?" He felt her hand on his damp shoulder, and her soft kiss on the top of his head.
"So far, so good." He glanced up at her, then back down to coax the fire along, adding or moving small branches to the flames, until he was satisfied. "Of course, this fire would feel much better if it weren't eighty plus degrees here already," he joked. "Well, let me gather up as much wood as I can, then I'll send up the first flare."
Thad carried another armload of branches from the woods and dropped them in a pile not too far from the fire, now blazing quite well from the breeze blowing in from the ocean. He looked over to see Phyl putting the finishing touches on the backrest and nodded, impressed with what she had created for their sleeping arrangements. He walked over to her as she smoothed the blanket across the mass of horizontal branches, softened with their leaves. He saw that she had pulled the other blanket on the ground up to the base of the backrest.
"See what you think." She turned her head as he approached her, and he wrapped his arm around her waist, leaning down to kiss her neck.
"I'll be more than happy to." He brushed the sand off his feet and sat down on the blanket. He sighed as he leaned back onto her makeshift backrest, stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankles. He saw, through his lowered lids, that she was eyeing him, and he reached both hands behind his neck and settled back against the surprisingly comfortable bed. "Phyl, this is great. I don't know about you, but I won't have a problem at all sleeping on this."
"Well, we don't know how the insects will be at night." She looked up worriedly into the branches above their bed, then smiled down at him."Or amphibians, come to think of it. Good, I'm glad it's comfortable." She put her hand on her hip. "Thad, will you do me a favor after you set off the flare?"
"Sure." He closed his eyes, smiling softly, exhaling loudly. "Do you know how long we've been without sleep?"
"I've lost count, Thad, in all honestly."
He heard her soft laugh as he started to drift off, then he caught himself with a start and glanced up at her. "Let me set off a flare, then I'll do whatever you need." He squinted his dark eyes up at her, then reluctantly raised himself off the blanket, running his hand through his hair and checking his watch. "It's late afternoon already."
"I just need you to help me stretch and tape the ponchos above the bed so the bugs won't be dropping down on our faces."
"I'm at your service." He smiled down at her. "Have a seat and watch the fireworks, then I'll be right back."
"You know, Thad, while you do that, I think I'm going to spell out SOS in the sand with some sticks."
"Good idea." He watched as she headed over to the woods to collect more branches, and he pulled the flare out of his pocket, and moved beyond the fire pit towards the water. He took off the cap and unraveled the cord, then held the red tube up and out and pulled the cord. Thick smoke began to billow from the tube, then bright orange flames erupted and he quickly backed up and stuck the bottom end in the sand to hold it securely. As the flare continued to erupt, he joined Phyl and helped her finish spelling out the letters, placed high enough on the beach that the water wouldn't reach their distress message and wash it away. He saw her surveying the letters, her right hand on her hip.
"I swear, if there weren't so much else going on, I would think we were on an idyllic vacation." Phyl smiled up at him. "What should we work on now? For some reason, I'm full of energy." She gazed around her. "Could you help me with the ponchos and tape now?"
After a few minutes they had managed to form a canopy over their bed by using the heavy duty tape to secure the two bright orange plastic ponchos together, then attaching the resulting form to branches above both sides of the bed. They eyed their creation with satisfaction.
"I'm going to see if I can catch a fish for dinner." Thad ran his hand through his damp hair.
"Oh my gosh, that would be wonderful," she breathed. "I'll organize the cooking supplies after I redo my ponytail. It's driving me crazy."
Thad pursed his lips as he looked over at the tube sticking out of the sand. "Well, that flare is used up. Three left. I'll set off another one after dark." He was glad that they had decided not to be concerned about Sullivan's men coming after them again. What could they do other than try to get someone's attention? There should be fishing boats in this area, he thought. They couldn't spend their time on the island worrying. And he was pretty sure that they would be rescued in the next twenty-four hours at the most. He changed his mind about fishing right away and sat down on the blanket, and leaned on the backrest, watching her as she brushed the sand off her feet and positioned herself cross-legged with her back to him on the blanket. As she got her hairbrush out of her bag, and started to undo her ponytail, he sat up, and took the brush from her.
"Let me," he whispered in her ear, and he saw her turn her head and smile. He pulled the black stretchy band from her pony tail, handing it over to her to hold. He deliberately took his time, running the brush over and over through her long, thick chestnut hair, and he could tell that this simple act was helping her relax. She leaned her head back and sighed and he let himself relax as well, feeling the soft, cooler breeze as the sky began to turn orange and the day began to turn into dusk. After a while, he pulled her damp hair back into her usual pony tail and she handed over the band, and he wound it around her hair, and tightened it to his satisfaction. He rested his hand on her neck and kissed her jaw and he heard her sigh again as she turned her head and smiled at him, her eyes soft.
"I could have you do that forever, you know."
"And I would be more than willing to do it forever." He smiled at her, but his dark eyes were serious, and as he rubbed her shoulder, an idea occurred to him. "Phyl, don't you have another blouse in your bag?"
"Yes, the one I had on yesterday. Why?"
"The one you have on is red. And I could hang it on a top branch of one of these trees." He wasn't sure it was a good idea, but it didn't hurt to get her opinion. "The red would really show up against the green leaves. What do you think?" He saw her squint her eyes at him.
"That's a great idea, actually." She nodded and smiled as he reached for her bag, and pulled out her sleeveless white blouse, laying it across her legs. She unbuttoned her red top and handed the soon to be distress flag to him and slid on her sleeveless white blouse, immediately noticing the spots of blood on the front.
"All right, I'm going to put up your blouse now, then we can fish." He pulled the knife out of his waistband and laid it on the blanket. "I'm going to leave this here for the time being. Can you get the fishing gear out for me?"
"Sure."
He chose a tree a short ways down and tied her red blouse to the highest branch he could reach. By the time he'd finished their make-shift distress flag, he saw that she had already attached the two pieces of the fishing rod together, and he knelt beside her on the blanket and together they finished assembling the small rod and reel, with the line and artificial lure. He thought their chances of catching anything would be infinitely better with live bait, but he couldn't be picky under the circumstances and he needed to get started. He headed to the beach with the rod, and on his way added a few more limbs to the fire, glancing back to see Phyl carrying the cooking supplies and setting them by the fire pit. She certainly had faith in him, and he hoped he would catch something quickl
y or else they would be eating mangoes again. On the other hand, he couldn't fault their good fortune in their current circumstance. It could certainly be a hell of a lot worse than this. He walked into the warm water a short distance and cast the line out beyond the thin surf, holding the rod as he situated his feet in the soft silt. He smiled as she joined him and linked her arm in his, and he heard her sigh as she rested her head on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head, and then instinctively jerked the rod back as he felt a nibble.
"Damn."
Phyl laughed at his reaction, and stood with him a few minutes more, as he reeled the line in and cast it out again in the same spot. She left him to walk back and forth along the shoreline, and he glanced at her from time to time as she reached down to pick up shells that interested her, or added wood to the fire. The sun was setting behind them in a pretty impressive purple-orange sky and he watched her as she stood at the shoreline and looked out over the ocean, lifting her face to the breeze. He was beginning to feel a little frustrated, worried that their dinner would indeed be water and mangoes when he felt another nibble.
"Got one." Thad yelled as he jerked the rod back and began reeling in what he hoped would be a decent sized fish for their dinner. Phyl joined him and watched the red fish thrashing in the shallow water as he pulled it onto the beach.
"Is that a snapper?" Phyl peered at the fish as he held it up.
"I believe so." Thad carried the rod with the wriggling fish up to the fire pit, where he saw that Phyl had laid out the small cooking stove, a couple of rocks, and the knife, and he worked to remove the hook from the side of the snapper's mouth as it gasped for air. "Why don't we lay the grill right on the fire?" He suddenly realized how hungry he was and was anxious now to get the snapper cleaned and cooked.
"All right. And while you clean the fish, I'll get the bottle of water, the plates and utensils, and a couple more mangoes." He saw her turn to leave, then glance back at him with a smile. "Are you sure we aren't on vacation?"
"You know, I would normally say 'it can't get any better than this' after catching a good-sized fish and getting ready to grill it," he laughed as he moved the rocks and knife closer to the water's edge and squatted down. Laying the expired fish on the rocks, he quickly scaled and gutted it. "Can you grab the flashlight while you're at it?" He rose and rinsed the fish and knife off in the salt water and headed back to the fire, smiling as he saw Phyl return with the items cradled in her arms. As the sun set, he grilled the fish, and they took their plates back to their blanket, and ate the moist and crispy snapper with slices of juicy mango. They cleaned up afterwards, throwing the remains in the ocean and washing off the plates and utensils in the salt water, adding more wood to the fire pit as they passed it on the way back to the blanket.
As the dusk turned into night, by necessity, they walked back a short distance into the woods, shining their flashlights in the eerie darkness. Phyl glanced around for any small pigs and they took turns finding private spots to use as separate makeshift bathrooms, before heading back to their camp.
"Again, what were they thinking?" Phyl laughed as she placed the one roll of tissue in her shoulder bag. "On the other hand, I suppose we're lucky to have any at all." Thad rummaged in the backpack as she checked her watch. "It's around eight now."
"I'm going to set off another flare, and then, what do you say we call it a night?" He headed toward the beach. "Hopefully, we'll wake up to a couple of fishing boats close by." Within a few minutes, he had secured the tube in the sand, and he stood back a short distance, hands on his hips, watching the orange flames, then he tilted his head back and looked at the gorgeous star-studded sky and exhaled, letting the breeze dry the sweat off his face and arms. He really wanted to stay positive, but there was always the chance that no one would respond immediately to their attempts, or that no one had even seen the flares or SOS sign. And there were only two more flares. He wasn't entirely sure in his mind that Matt or some other of Sullivan's men would stay away from the island. The plane was there, wasn't it, and someone surely would be checking on that, at the least, and he didn't want them to still be on the island if they did. He'd had the advantage over Matt earlier, in his mind, even with him holding the knife on them - with the man being smaller in stature, and the fact that he was injured. He and Phyl needed to discuss all the possible scenarios before they even tried to sleep tonight. He ran his hand through his damp hair and down his short beard, and hearing movement, turned to see Phyl walking through the sand toward him. She linked her arm through his, and he leaned down and kissed her cheek.
"How does your head feel?" His deep voice was warm as he looked into her eyes. As long as he lived, he would do everything in his power to ensure that no harm ever befell her, and he had succeeded in Lucaya, but, damn it, he had been helpless with the crash. It would take a long while for that image of her slumped over in the plane seat to be banished from his memory. For a split-second, the horrific thought had crossed his mind that he'd lost her.
"Not bad, actually." Phyl sighed. "Hmm..mm. Thad, do you see that very faint glow in the sky over the top of the trees on that other island?" She pointed to their southeast.
"Umm..no. Wait a minute. Let me walk down a bit." He moved away from the light of the waning flare and squinted in the direction she had indicated. "I do now." He beamed down at her as she joined him. "That's definitely a town, Phyl. A very small town, it appears, but one nonetheless."
"Maybe we should use the whistle now." She looked up at him. "It would be an unusual sound at night when it's quieter."
"Good idea. I'll get it and we can try it for a while." Thad turned and sprinted back to their alcove and rummaged in the backpack for the bright orange whistle. When he returned to her, they spent a few minutes practicing the SOS signal - three short blasts or dots, three long blasts or dashes, and three more short whistles. They took turns for almost an hour, blowing on the whistle and he hoped that someone over there had heard their distress signals.
"I'm exhausted. Do you think you can sleep?" Phyl handed him the whistle.
"I know I can sleep," he laughed softly, and they turned and headed toward their enclosure in the darkness. "I'll try to keep the fire going all night." He added a few more branches to the blaze as they passed the fire pit.
After wiping the sand off their feet, they got themselves situated on the blanket, with her being on his left, as they usually slept, and they settled in against the surprisingly comfortable cushion of branches. She pulled herself up a little so he could put his arm under her and he felt her rest her head on his chest and take a deep breath. What a day, he thought. What day was it? Monday? He quickly recounted in his head the past events. It was indeed only Monday night. They had been through hell and back and the end was nowhere in sight, as of yet. He looked beyond the drooping canopy of orange ponchos above them and stared at the sliver of starry sky above the horizon, his eyes getting heavy, and he softly rubbed his wife's arm.
"Umm..mm. That feels so good," she murmured. "Let's just discuss things in the morning. I'm so tired..." Her voice trailed off and he felt her breathing deepen, and he took an exhausted breath. He couldn't think about what could have been this morning. The thought of life without her was unthinkable. Unbearable. After losing Angela, he'd all but resigned himself to a life alone. How could he know that he would find Phyl, his perfect match, four years later, right in his own clinic. When she'd left that message about Bear the night of the blizzard in 'eighty-four, he hadn't thought twice, and he'd grabbed his medical bag and headed out to her lakeside home, with no thought of his own safety. He was aware that he was considered by all who knew him to be a quiet man, but he was rendered speechless when she'd thanked him and reached up and rested her cheek on his, her cold hand on his collar. Leaving her that morning had been more than difficult. He'd known that she was in a relationship when he'd written her that note the morning before leaving to pick up his daughter at JMU, but he had to write what he felt in his heart, and
he'd tried to choose his words thoughtfully, so that if she were starting to have feelings for him, she would understand his meaning. There was something in her serious, searching gaze that morning before he left as she'd looked up at him that had given him encouragement. If he were mistaken, and she wasn't interested, there was nothing untoward in his words, and he figured she would just read it, toss it, and he would continue on with his solitary life.
But, in the time they had been together, he had found himself constantly amazed by her kind heart, independent spirit, her intelligence, and her energy and enthusiasm for her creative businesses, and their lives had melded together perfectly. But that wasn't why he would be drawn to Phyl for the rest of his life. His feeling that they were joined by a force larger than themselves, that they were, in fact, inexplicably made for each other was one that she shared as well. How else could he explain the feeling that he had been waiting for her his whole life? A feeling that had hit him like a lightening bolt to his chest at the clinic the first time he had seen her. He had known without a doubt at that instant that they were meant to be together, and he'd glanced down at his folder as he stood behind the counter, trying to keep his composure at that most startling revelation in an otherwise routine day. And then they had married. Their first year together had been as close to perfect as he considered possible, save for one period in the early spring of 'eighty-six, that was, in his mind, their first trial together as husband and wife. He exhaled softly and gazed down at his precious sleeping wife, remembering that day.....
....."Thad?" She snuggled up under his outstretched arm as they sat on the sofa, sipping mugs of steaming coffee, enjoying the blazing fire on the cool spring evening.
"What's on your mind?" He rubbed her shoulder and slanted his eyes down at her.
"I thought I was pregnant again, but, it turns out that I'm not," she sighed and sipped her coffee. "This is the second time now, and I'm not sure what to think of it."
He took a deep breath and exhaled, then leaning forward, set his cup on the coffee table. He turned to her and put his arm around her, sweeping her beautiful, long hair behind her shoulder as she leaned into him, her eyes closed, cradling her mug in her hands.
"Maybe a visit to your doctor is in order." Thad continued to caress her hair, then pulled back from her and looked into her upturned eyes as he held her shoulders. "You know, Phyl, we decided that we would let nature take its course concerning our having a child," he smiled softly at her and saw her eyes mist. "Perhaps it's too soon to be worried."
"Do you remember that magazine article that I told you about a few months ago? The one concerning that specific drug used in the early 'sixties for severe cases of childhood measles?"
"Yes, you said it was found to cause infertility."
"I'm sure I was given that drug, Thad, when I was eleven." She glanced up at him. "If my mother were still alive, she could tell me for sure, but the name was very familiar."
"You should go and get that checked out, then." Thad rubbed her back gently. "We need to find out, in my opinion, in order to ease your mind."
"I'll make an appointment for next week, then, and we'll see what Dr. Myers comes up with."
"That sounds good." He brushed back a strand of hair from her cheek and kissed her softly.
Two weeks later, they were sitting together in front of Dr. Myers' large mahogany desk, holding hands across the short space between their chairs, waiting as the elderly physician flipped through Phyl's folder. He looked up at them and removed his reading glasses, tapping them on the folder.
"Well, Phyl, Thad. I have the results." He cleared his throat, set down his glasses, and folded his hands on the desk top. "It seems, Phyl, that your concerns about the drug proved to have merit." He paused, and Thad reached his other hand over and clasped her hand in both of his as they waited for him to continue. "The drug you mentioned, unfortunately, is one that I remember all too well from that period in the 'sixties." He gazed seriously at each of them in turn. "It has, indeed, been found to cause infertility. It is my opinion, after looking at your test results, Phyl, that more than likely you will be unable to conceive. I'm sorry. The chances are extremely slim for a viable pregnancy." Thad saw his wife take a deep breath, and she nodded over at him, then turned to the doctor.
"Are there any treatments or procedures that can reverse it?"
"Not that I'm aware of," the doctor smiled at her softly. "If you like, I can refer you to an infertility specialist. There's an excellent facility in Virginia that is exploring many new ideas."
"I'm not sure if I'm ready for that." Phyl looked over at him, her brows furrowed. "We weren't really in any hurry to have a baby."
"We can talk about that, Phyl." Thad nodded at her, and she smiled, and turned back to the doctor.
"Thank you, Dr. Myers. It's actually a relief to finally get an answer, don't you agree, Thad?" He shifted his weight in the leather chair as he looked at her.
"It's not the answer we were hoping for." He searched her eyes as he pressed her hands in his. "But, we accept it, we'll..." He gazed at her. "We'll be all right." He nodded at her and saw her lift her chin and she smiled at him through her wet lashes. Yes, they would be all right.
They left the office arm in arm, deep in their own thoughts, letting the doctor's words sink in.....
"Goodnight, my love," Thad whispered against the top of her head, as the warm ocean breeze ruffled her hair, and he felt her nod her head ever so slightly, and her breathing changed as she drifted off. Yes, they had been more than all right, but he knew that the doctor's words were always in the back of her mind, and he was helpless to change the prognosis. As far as their relationship? He would do anything for her. He already knew that. But, most men never have the chance to prove it, and this week he had, and he would do so again. Gladly. He would give his life for her without a moment's hesitation. After one last glance down at his beautiful wife, he reached his other arm back behind his neck, closed his eyes, and fell into a deep slumber.