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writers' Cramp |
There it was, finally. Our island. Our very own island. It looked beautiful above the waves of fog, but there was still one question to be answered: why had they sold it to us for only five dollars? We anchored the catamaran in the cove and climbed into the inflatable. "Oh give 'ere," I shouted at John as he came close to dropping an oar overboard. I pulled toward the beach just visible through the fog. When we reached the shallows I jumped out. "Do you think you can manage to pull it up above the tideline." Don't be fooled by the tanned muscular body, John was a total clutz. He did have his uses though. My toes sunk into the soft sand as I ran up the beach. "Come on, I want to explore." John was still trying to get the inflatable up the strand, narrowly missing an outcrop of rocks. "Did they say anything about a fresh water supply?" John either didn't hear me or chose to ignore me. I headed towards the tree line. There were coconuts, they would provide us with fluid until I could find a source of drinking water. I could build a cistern but that would take time. "D'you think you could shin up there and get us some coconuts?" He climbed like a monkey and soon there were hairy missiles raining down on me. "Are you doing that on purpose?" I pulled my survival knife from my belt and opened two. "Here." I handed one to John. "Thanks." He sloped off to sit away from me. Like I said, he has his uses; conversation wasn't one of them. I watched as the milk rolled down his chin and on to his bare chest. No, this was not the time. We needed to build a fire. The sun was already close to the horizon and I had no idea what predators might be lurking. John was stretched out on the sand, his eyes closed. I went back to the inflatable and grabbed the saw. As I approached the trees I prayed there were no spiders. I'm not scared by many things but spiders was one of them. I took off my shirt and started gathering dried grass and twigs for kindling. Then I set to work on some fallen logs with the saw. Bundling it all inside my shirt I headed back to the beach. The fire ignited, I looked over at John. He was sitting up hugging his knees. "Hungry?" Selective deafness. That was when I heard a rustling in the trees. I grabbed my knife. I was prepared to fight any wild animal. John just sat there. What emerged from the trees was a group of scantily clad women, their dark skins glistening in the firelight. One woman approached, while the others stayed by the treeline. "Bossman send you?" "Well, not exactly. We bought the island." "You Bossman now?" The other women were hedging closers. "I guess. He didn't tell us the island was inhabited." I looked at John who was paying no interest. "He say we want men?" Now they were almost surrounding me. "To do work you mean." "Only one job. Make babies." Her hand reached out to my bare chest. "You got the wrong end of the stick love, I'm with him." I pointed to where John had been sitting, only to see him dive into the waves and head for the catamaran. "Look, I'm not ... interested ... in ..." 580 words |