Oceans looked down at the banana leaf plate on her lap. There was fish, a blackened banana, and some burnt coconut scrapings. Oceans began shoveling the food into her mouth hungrily. The fish was burnt on outside and slightly raw on the inside, the bananas were dry and husky like eating a giant pretzel, and the coconut was part sweet, part bitter—and it was like eating a Thanksgiving dinner!
Marshall smiled tiredly. He handed her a coconut and it had obviously been cracked open against a sharp rock. The green soft outer skin was still mostly on and a banana leaf had plugged the top to keep the insects out. She drank and was surprised to taste water instead of coconut milk. Marshall's manmade coconut cups.
After she'd eaten he slid the remaining fish from the rocks, slightly burnt but smelling delicious. These he wrapped in banana leaves as well.
"How did you catch the fish?" Again he held up his hands. This had been relatively easier then the fire...though he now had to have a new scale to gauge such things. The fish swam in schools at dawn and he knew how to hold his breath under water. That's all it amounted too. With enough time and patience, he had caught one fish and this is what he had cooked for Oceans. Then he'd gone back out and spent hours 'fishing' for more.
Oceans gasped. "Marshall! Have you been awake all night?"
He shrugged dismissively. It wasn't as if he would have been able to sleep with possible deadly animals out in the night. And he hadn't figured out the fire situation until dawn...Marshall yawned then and Oceans put aside her plate and stood up, gripping his hand and pulling him up as well.
"Come on. You're going to sleep." Marshall chuckled but followed her to the lean-to. He fell tiredly onto the makeshift bed while Oceans fussed a bit with the afghan. He yawned again and then fell asleep.
***
Marshall and Oceans moved their camp as planned. It wasn't much to move, much of the things that had washed ashore they left; to be retrieved as needed. Over the course of the next few days, they built a bigger lean-to using the big banana leaves for almost everything. The structure was small saplings and tall straight branches that served as the support and banana leaves as the walls. The roof was overlapping banana leaves. The floor was the same. Oceans even managed to weave two large mats that served as pallets.
Marshall had created two fire pits. At night, the fire was moved to the nearby hut where they hoped it would keep the animals at bay and it certainly helped with bugs and flies. But then during the day, the fire was moved some feet further away. It's where they cooked and where they kept the coals hot when the fire wasn't needed.
They came up with a routine that seemed to work well for them. First thing in the morning, Marshall got the fire going in the main pit while Oceans prepared breakfast. Usually it was a variety of fruits and leftover fish from the dinner before...that is if the bugs hadn't gotten to it. She had come upon cassava root. There was tons of it that had never harvested so it was old...and certainly toxic. It made her nervous. Cassava contained cyanide; the older bitter variety could even be deadly. It was harder to find the younger variety but when she did, they ate it roasted and it was like having baked potato. She didn't bother telling Marshall that with the older, larger root she could make flour, which then could be turned into bammie flat bread, liquor, or even a tasty porridge. But without a way to safely soak away the toxicity, she just wouldn't risk it.
After breakfast they combed the beach for more things that washed up on shore during the night. Every morning brought new things but mostly just bits of metal from the plane wreckage, or sheets of fiberglass. Seeing the blinding reflection from some of these items gave Marshall an idea. The two took an afternoon to create a reflecting signal. They didn't have enough to form S.O.S, but there was enough to form the shape of an arrow, and that arrow pointed in the direction of the new camp. Afterwards they scaled a large rocky hill and looked down proudly upon their work.
Normally after breakfast, they traveled to the stream for fresh water and more fruit or cassava root. As it was just a fifteen minute trek through the forest, the journey for water was now effortless. Then Marshall would go fishing while Oceans wove. That's usually when they took their personal moments and then they met back for lunch. Lunch was shellfish, a crab that they split, a big slow fish, or on days when he just wasn't lucky in the sea there would be roasted plantains, cassava, or some fruit. Oceans had begun scouring the surrounding forest for edible greens. Again, plenty of cassava leaves but they were more toxic then even the roots! And what was the point of dense chewy leaves if they couldn't be boiled down? But there were plenty of other things that her sharp eye could pick up. She found a water cactus once and that was like eating artichoke, even when they ate it raw.
The sun would be at its hottest at lunch and they would retreat to the lean-to hut where they talked, rested, or napped. Then it was time for another trek to the stream and upon returning they would work on some project. One day it was digging the sweet meat from the coconuts so that they could be cleaned and filled with coals to make into better cups and bowls. Before night fall they would have collected more firewood and gone scavenging for things to make the hut better.
It was during the fourth day that the routine was interrupted. That was the day something entered the camp.
~DAY 4~
Oceans was almost done with the new mat. It could be used on the beach to kneel and sit on while cooking. She thought about how hard she worked every day since being on the island, but also how rewarding it was. There wasn't a day that passed where she wasn't afraid for her future but keeping busy helped. And of course it was a godsend having Marshall with her.
Oceans felt herself smile as she thought about the countless things that he did on a daily basis to make their lives easier. She was so thankful that she wasn't stranded with a man like Franklin. He would be lying around all day expecting her to hunt, cook, and fix the hut. Oceans' smile grew at the image of the sexy man. He had relinquished the wife beater since he did lots of things to get dirty. Now his peaches and cream skin was bronzed by the sun and his hair had lightened and fell in unruly waves into his eyes.
Right now he was making a great deal of noise by pounding a large stump into molten hot metal. It was one of the few large pieces that they had. He was trying to shape the newly flexible metal into a large pot to hold water. The fire was hot and he would position it between two great rocks and pound on it until it bent to his will.
Oceans watched him discreetly; the way his muscles flexed and strained beneath his skin and the serious expression on his face as he hefted the heavy wooden mallet, then the way the sweat would drip from his hair and down the lines of his naked back, only to trail lower to where his pants had begun to hang low on his waist.
He was truly a sight to behold and Oceans would find herself panting before she caught herself and averted her eyes. Once she went into the ocean and swam and fingered herself until she could think about things other then what lay beneath those worn Armani pants, and what would happen once they fell apart all together...
Marshall knew that Oceans eyes were on him. The first time he'd caught her staring surprised him when he recognized the attraction. It was mutual, but he hadn't wanted to act on it. There was a reluctance about her so he intentionally let it grow. It was difficult, especially at night when the thin fabric of her sun dressed molded to her breasts and her thighs and her soft breathing let him know that she was at peace. Then he wanted to trace the lines of her body and to see her nipples grow tight. He wanted to trail his fingers up her inner thighs and to push them past her panties and feel if she was moist—
Marshall faltered and the last thump of the wooden stump toppled the metal and sent hot sand and red hot embers over his foot.
"Ahh! Shit!" He hopped up on one foot, away from the fire. Oceans jumped up, throwing the mat aside.
"Marshall!" He sat down with a thump. "Let me see your foot." He squinted at her and lifted his foot up to her to see. She gripped it gently in her hands and came to her kn
ees letting it rest there on her lap. The top of his foot was red. The bottom wasn't in the greatest shape. He had scrapes and blisters from going shoeless over the rocky, hot terrain. In time, his tender feet would toughen but for now it did cause him problems.
He needed cool water and salve to treat the burns. She had found aloe and had kept a small plant to carry back to camp, which she kept planted in an empty coconut shell. Oceans hurried to the hut and brought back an aloe leaf and fresh water that she had in another hollowed coconut shell.
Marshall was grimacing as angry welts began to rise on the flesh of his foot.
"This is going to feel better real soon. I promise." She said while dribbling the cool water over the angry red skin. She then carefully squeezed the slimy ooze from the aloe plant over the burns, forming a cooling layer. She had taken her satin slip, torn a strip from the bottom and this she wrapped lightly around his foot. His lone black sock came in handy as she slipped it over his foot to hold the makeshift bandage in place. After a moment, he made to stand.
"What are you doing?"
"I have to finish it before the metal cools." He picked up the stump with determination and hobbled back to the warming piece of metal. Oceans watched him in amazement. But he did what he said he would. She went for more wood to keep the fire burning hot while he finished his loud thumping, thumping, thumping.
In the end, he had a huge pot with little wings sticking out that acted like handles. He had even flattened the bottom so that it wouldn't tip. Oceans marveled at it as if it was a piece of fine china. A pot would open up a world for them; now she could make cassava flour!
"I can't wait to use it to carry back some water!" She exclaimed. Filled with water, it would be heavy enough that two would need to carry it back from the spring. Marshall already had visions of creating an even bigger one that would stay at camp and they would just fill it. Then he blanched at the thought of how easily he had adapted to this life.
"It didn't ever look this hard on Gilligan's Island." He said as he limped into the forest carrying the empty pot.
Oceans had moved to the lead with her trusty walking stick that she used to push aside bushes and flick away snakes. She looked back at Marshall. "If this was Gilligan's Island then I want my gingham dress and a recipe for coconut cream pie."
Marshall's eyes lit up. "Who said you'd be MaryAnn? I think you're Ginger." Oceans laughed out loud. There was nothing glamorous about her. Her hair was a curly mess on her head. Her dress was sweat soaked and dirty, she had streaks of ash covering her feet and hands, her legs hadn't been shaved and she didn't want to think about what was growing under her pits.
But when she met Marshall's eyes, she saw the honesty in that statement. Her skin tingled as she saw the heated attraction in that look. Oceans turned away and continued to the spring.
It wasn't so heavy with the both of them carrying it back and they just chatted about his idea of all the things they could make now that there was fire. He didn't mention that he wanted to forge better weapons, since he had heard noises very close to their camp off in the forest. So far, the fire seemed to keep the smaller animals away. And neither of them had seen anything larger than the little rat-like creatures that scurried under the brush; Meer rats. Neither of them had been desperate enough to try to catch the quick little creatures. Not that meat wasn't desirable, but those things were fast.
Back at camp, Oceans checked Marshall's foot again and she cleaned it with more fresh water then applied more aloe. It was blistered in places and though he didn't complain she knew it had to be very uncomfortable. She insisted that he stay off of it as she went about preparing the evening meal. She wanted to find some scrap metal that could be used to scrape the thick fibrous cassava roots so that she could soak away the toxins and prepare it for flour. That's what she was doing when the wild boar pushed through the forest and ambled down on to the beach.
Marshall had been watching her from the lean-to. Since she was preoccupied, he allowed his erection free reign and stroked himself absently while she moved about her task. Her beauty was not lost in the fact that her hair was an untamed halo about her head and her face was smudged with ash. He knew that later she'd strip out of those clothes and bathe in the ocean by the light of the moon. And he'd watch from a distance and stroke his cock until he came quietly but with much satisfaction. It had become a nightly ritual with him and it was what allowed him the ability to interact with her during the day without being too forward.
But then he caught the sight of movement off to the side and his head jerked in that direction. Marshall leaped to his feet. An animal was lumbering down the embankment towards the beach...and Oceans.
Though much like a pig, a wild boar is deadly with its tusk-like upper and lower teeth. This animal stood on all four at a height of four feet and Marshall approximated its weight to be about 200lbs.
"YAH!!!" He screamed, as he waved his hands in the air trying to catch the attention of the wild animal. Oceans looked up at him and saw the creature too. It was between them by several yards. Instead of standing still as he would have liked her to do, she took off in the opposite direction. Between the waving man and the fleeing woman, the wild boar saw Oceans as more prey and like any predator went after her.
Marshall picked up Ocean's walking stick as he went sprinting towards the animal. Forgetting about his injured foot, he screamed and made as much of a ruckus as he could. But the animal had been closer to her than it had been to him and he was amazed at how quickly the hulking animal moved. He'd always associated over-sized animals like that as fat and slow. He was very wrong! Oceans sprinted and looked behind her, panicking when she saw that she hadn't left it behind.
Marshall's heart thudded in his chest as he prayed that she wouldn't fall. "Oceans get into the water! Run to the water!" Oceans suddenly veered and began sprinting to the water. He prayed that the thing couldn't swim and even if it could, he'd seen Oceans swim and he didn't think it could catch up. As he suspected, the animal came to a halt at the water's edge.
Marshall came to a halt as well. He wanted to kill it! He hated the thing. But a walking stick that didn't even have a point to it was no weapon against a 200lb animal of that magnitude. As these thoughts went through his mind, the animal turned to look at him. Marshall strolled to the ocean as the animal charged at him. He was neck deep in water before the huffing animal stopped. It stamped the ground for a few moments and then headed slowly back towards the forest. As soon as it disappeared, Ocean's swam to the beach and dropped on the wet sand. He hurried out of the water himself. She was crying.
"Oh, Oceans!" He came to his knees and gathered her in his arms while she trembled and sobbed. "It's gone, honey. It's going to be ok."
"It knows we're here." He didn't answer. "It will come back." She cried. He just stroked her wet, sandy hair.
***
Neither of them had an easy time sleeping. So Marshall told her he'd keep watch and then when he got very tired he'd let her take over. He was proud that she trusted him enough to drop off to sleep as easily as she did. But he only knew one thing that they could do if the animal came back, and that was to rouse Oceans and run for the water.
Being at the mercy of the large animal ate at his mind mercilessly. While he stood watch as the night grew cooler, Marshall began forging weapons from the scrap metal.
When Oceans awoke at the crack of dawn, Marshall had a neat row of weapons situated on the sand. He'd fashioned several spears with heavy pieces of twisted, sharp metal that they hadn't previously found a use for. He'd also made huge torches which surrounded the campsite that would be ready to be lit each night. Ingeniously, he had used bits of the fiberglass to keep the torches from burning up. Marshall was staring into the distance as if he were mesmerized.
"Marshall?" He blinked and looked at her. He was exhausted. "Why didn't you wake me?"
"I wanted to finish this." He gestured to the items. Then he climbed to his feet and stumbled back into the little hut. "
I need to sleep." He murmured and then he lay down on his side. She watched him, worried. He closed his eyes and didn't reopen them and soon he was snoring deeply.
Some hours later when he awoke, Oceans wanted to walk back to the old campsite to see if anything good had washed ashore. Marshall wasn't chatting idly as he usually did and she noticed dark circles under his eyes.
"Are you okay?"
He offered her a thin smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I'm fine. I'm just thinking." She didn't keep probing him. She figured he'd speak about what was on his mind when he wanted to share it with her.
When they got back to the old camp some of the metal had been covered by sand. They went about uncovering the buried scraps, and as for the large reflective arrow, they paid special attention to brushing away the sand to keep it pointing the way to their location. There were thousands of islands in the Caribbean and without some help they could be lost forever...
Marshall stopped suddenly. He shielded his eyes and stared out to sea, and then he went running into the water. Oceans turned to see what had caught Marshall's eyes and then even she went running into the water. It was a parachute! It was a colorful blue, white and yellow parachute floating out to sea. After swimming for a few minutes, Marshall reached it first. He spent a moment floating and examining his find before turning back to Oceans.