"Between that and our fire, we’re about as visible as we can get given the materials that we have," Hunter told me.
The men gathered a few more supplies from the boat, including planks of wood that they had broken off of the deck, and we cross the water to gather by the fire. Despite the muggy heat of the island, this was becoming our central location, as if it were the kitchen of the giant new home that was this island. Somehow, though, I doubted that I was going to find the cappuccino machine and panini maker here that I would have found in my own kitchen, and I didn’t think that a white-coated chef was going to climb down from one of the banana trees to whip up a nice island bird-egg quiche for me for brunch. I might have once loved camping, but it had been many decades since I had roughed it, and I was now very much accustomed to the comforts my life had afforded me. It wasn’t something that I loved to admit to myself, and it had precisely been what I asked Noah not to tell anybody, but right about then as I started to feel the coffee deprivation settle in, I was realizing that I might be in far over my head. I was right with what I told Hunter. I didn’t have any of the Cub Scout badges.
"What do we do now?" I asked when we had gotten back and were sitting around the fire waiting for our breakfast to cook. "Just wait?"
“Wait for what?” Hunter asked.
“Rescue? To be absorbed by a tribe from another island? For another storm to come and wipe us out?”
"We really should do some more exploring around the island to find out as much about it as we can," Gavin said, choosing to ignore me.
"And then we need to start thinking about a shelter,” Hunter added.
The word made my chest constrict painfully.
"A shelter?" I asked, slightly louder than I had intended. "We only need a shelter if we’re planning on being here for a while, and I, for one, am not."
“Do you have some kind of recovery team on the way that we should know about?” Gavin asked. “Because if you do, I’m going to forego trying to make a meal out of these fish and wait for something a little more substantial.”
"The chances of us getting off of this island in the next 24 hours are slim to none," Hunter said a bit more gently than Gavin’s harsh tone. "Which means that we need somewhere to sleep."
"I’ll sleep in the cabin," I said.
Now that I had rigged my own transportation across the water I didn’t mind the thought of curling up on the berth again to get some sleep without the sand.
"That's fine for tonight," Gavin said, "but what if no one finds us for a few days and another storm hits? That boat is already in such bad condition that another wave could completely splinter it and there would be nothing to protect you from being drawn out to sea with the wreckage."
The words sent a chill down my spine. The only thing that sounded more terrifying to me than just being pulled down into the water while I was trying to swim was becoming part of sea monster snack mix.
"After lunch, we’ll look around some and see if we can find anything that would be helpful in building a shelter," Hunter suggested. "Eleanor, do you want us to go together?"
I straightened my spine and lifted my chin slightly, trying to look as dignified and in-control as I could with my two-day old makeup caked in streams down my face and my hair sticking out from my head at odd angles.
"No," I said with all of the confidence that I could muster. "I can do it on my own."
I stalked off toward the jungle, fighting the tears that stung in my eyes and immediately regretting my decision to shun Hunter’s help with literally no intention other than to try to sound like I wasn’t terrified when the truth was that despite telling myself that I was going to be strong, I felt more scared and vulnerable than I did even when we first arrived on the island. All of the pain and fear that Virgil had caused me over the years was building up in me again, bubbling up from the place where I had stored it with the hope of never having to deal with it ever again. In the years that I had devoted to him, Virgil had methodically chipped away at my strength, my confidence, even my belief in my own ability to make decisions and handle what came my way. I had never been like that. He had taken the person my father had raised me to be and destroyed her, dissolving that woman through years of mistreatment.
I had lost count of the times that I cried in private, sequestered away in one of the many anonymous rooms in the gigantic house that we had shared and that had always seemed ridiculous. There was no need for us to have that big of a house. It wasn’t like we had any children to indulge with all of the space, and when I did have the opportunity to have Noah over when he was young, Virgil had ensured that the time we spent together was limited to only three of the rooms. I knew that it was for show. He loved impressing people he thought were important and who fueled his hunger for money and power. I hated what it represented, but all too soon I felt like I didn’t have any way out. There was nothing that I could do to stop him.
When I had finally gotten the courage to walk away from him, I had promised myself that I would never feel that way again. After months of preparation and convincing myself that I was not only capable of being without him and defying his commands, but that all of the risk that I would face was worth it, I had taken the evidence that I had gathered against him and used it as leverage to escape. Signing the divorce papers had been like signing the declaration of my freedom. I took only the bare essentials when I left, knowing that anything that I owned was readily replaceable and not important enough to lay my life on the line for, because as I dragged what few necessary and sentimental belongings out of the house after Virgil left in a rage I knew that if he had shown back up and witnessed my leaving, I likely wouldn’t survive. Despite that, I left that house feeling like I had finally reclaimed my life for good.