Stranded (28 page)

He turned and strode away. No staggering, no pausing to question which way, no bumping into the herd on the street. Jojo grunted. For a little twerp, Eduardon could hold his liquor. Good. That meant he’d remember they had a deal. Jojo would hold him to it.

Four weeks. Did the runt think he was going to be in charge because he was an officer? Jojo released a long belch.
When Jojo’s gut said they’d found the right yacht, that’s when they’d make their move.

And that’s when Eduardon would get his first lesson in kissing Jojo’s toes.

Eve was no ascetic when it came to fillng her belly, but when her fifth banana peel hit the ground, Jake reckoned it was her mouth she was stuffing, not her stomach. Okay, so she didn’t want to finish their discussion about how she’d broken his trust. Disappointment rolled a five ton lorry over his hopes. To spare her a sixth banana, he called it a night. “We’ll check out the other bamboo stands tomorrow. I think we’ll find culms we can harvest in at least one of them.”

He scooped out a shallow pit and used the binocular lens on the evening’s fading rays to build a fire from dried leaves and bamboo scraps. The gentle breeze that seemed to have taken up residence among the tall cane drifted the smoke just enough to send the mosquitoes packing. Eve dropped right off to sleep, but his disgruntlement clamped shut his jaws and locked open his eyelids.

The scars on his back throbbed in the midst of tense shoulder muscles. He blew out a breath and inhaled slowly, consciously relaxing his muscles before shifting to face the fire. On the other side, Eve slept with her back to him. Her hair, tucked behind her ears as usual, hung like a shimmering curtain, reflecting the embers’ glow. Her ribs rose and fell in the rhythm of a steady sleep.

His mind sped back to the croc and the hug that followed. The tightness in his jaws relaxed. That hug had opened a door for him and Eve. Had taken them beyond the camaraderie developed in their month of exercise together to a new level of companionship.

His pulse quickened, thrumming hushed, cotton-cushioned taps against his eardrums. He closed his eye
s―
remembering, savoring. Eve in his arms, seeking him out. Her remorse for taking the outrigger. The plea in her eyes to be reconciled with him. Something had happened with that embrace. Something that bared their souls. Freed her to apologize. Freed him to reveal the pain of her betrayal with the outrigger.

Eve’s nightmare about her father and the wolves leaped to mind. His eyelids shot open. Of course. Why had he thought Eve could respond to what he’d said? She didn’t know what trust was. Trust was a void, a chasm she couldn’t cross.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t cross to her. Bridge the void with a friendship that rose above her father’s failure. That bridged his own void too. He swallowed back his aching loneliness for Ginny.

Piece by piece he’d build that bridge. Carefully. He didn’t want to damage the fragile friendship they’d just achieved.

Eve sat up and brushed the grit of cane debris from her arms and legs. The bitter odor of last night’s fire trailed an acrid scum down her throat to her stomach. Across from her, Jake sat with bulging cheeks, chomping the only item on their breakfast menu. When he reached across with a banana, she scrunched her nose. “If I have to eat one more banana, I’ll vomit.”

An unsuccessfully suppresed grin flicked the corners of his mouth. “We’ll keep an eye out for something else on our way.”

Could she eat anything anyway? Probably not until she admitted who she was to Jake. She stood and brushed off her shirt and shorts. What a coward she’d been last night. The timing would have been perfect. All she’d had to say was “Jake, I’m a federal prosecutor,” and he would have taken it from there. Now she’d have to figure out how and when to bring it up.

Tonight. She curled her fingers into tight fists and shackled herself to the promise. In the meantime, she’d shove it off her plate so she could get through the day.

With no crevices to climb in and out of, their travel time to the closest bamboo stand was short. At its center, dozens of towering plants displayed thick culms. Eve encircled one with her forefingers and thumbs to form a fat
O
. “This size looks perfect.”

“Too old.” Jake pointed to patches of fungus on one woody stem after another. “I had to throw away a raft’s worth of these last summer before I caught on. They won’t hold up.”

At the next stand, the diameter of several culms was two-thirds the size of the last ones, but with no fungus. Jake ran his hands over their sleek surfaces. “These will do, but there aren’t enough.”

The third stand contained more culms the same size. “All right, let’s harvest these and stack them to dry, then go back for the others.” He frowned. “The raft will be narrower than I want, but the trade-off might be it’s easier to manipulate.”

Cutting the bamboo proved no easy task. Between the whacks from the axe and the pressure of her and Jake’s weight pushing against the stalks, the bamboo yielded its lumber reluctantly. Equally trying was positioning the leggy culms in a stack to leach their sugar and harden the wood. Her skin itched nonstop. Oh, what she wouldn’t give for the cool massage of the stream next to their cave. At least when she and Jake returned in two weeks for the culms, all they’d have to do was drag them to the beach.

By noon, she was shaky from not eating. They’d found no alternatives to the bananas. On the north side of the island around the cove, they knew where dozens of fruit grew. But on this side, the unexplored jungle hid its cupboard from them. She gladly ate the bananas Jake had stuffed into his pockets, and more later that night at their campsite.

She ate two for supper before her stomach tightened around them like a noose. Okay, so she was a little nervous, but she was ready. Ready to tell Jake she was a federal prosecutor. She’d just wait until after he finished building his fire to decamp the mosquitos . . .

The bamboo stand hushed as he held the binocular lens steady. Didn’t stir when the dry leaves wisped up smoke. Held its breath when they flattened to gray ash. A spark bit noiselessly into the shards of cane. Slowly, ticking off seconds, Jake leaned over the tinder and pursed his lips. A sharp puff broke the silence, and golden flames danced.

Her breath caught in her throat
. Now.
She needed to tell him
now
.

Four simple words: I’m a federal prosecutor.

“Jake—” His name came out strangled. Her brain set off an alarm, and her heartbeat accelerated. Acid pinched the walls of her stomach. She felt the blood drain from her face. Felt her cheeks and forehead and the skin on her arms and hands go clammy. The pulse in her throat lifted in frantic flight.

The bamboo swirled around her in a dizzying spiral. The dancing flames of the fire clicked off into darkness. Clicked on again at Jake’s voice. “Eve!”

She blinked, found herself in his arms, his face inches from hers. Worry furrowed the skin around his eyes and across his brow. He lowered her to the ground and gently released her. “Are you okay? You passed out.”

Her brain clicked into full power, and sorrow seeped in. The words “I’m a federal prosecutor” lay crushed and flattened on her docket. She couldn’t say them. Couldn’t take them to the man she loved for him to judge and pass sentence on.

The only words legible on her docket were
United States vs. Danny Romero.

That was her destiny.

Not Jake.

Words came out of her mouth, but not the ones she wanted to say. “I, I’m okay now.”

She swallowed back the wail that beat on her chest. Drowned it, like the croc had drowned the doe.

Chapter 49

Jake picked his way over debris and loose stones to the log that had shoved him and Eve over the cliff almost a year ago. His heart beat faster with each step. What had once almost killed them might now prove the very means of saving them. Huge boulders held the two halves of the log high above the sandbar and the hungry waves salivating at its edge. Above him, Crystal peered over the top of the cliff with its whiskery tree roots spiking its side. The faint odor of Betty’s sea chowder emanated from the cave door, undaunted by the briny competition of the vast ocean.

The log was mahogany, no doubt carefully selected by the Japanese soldiers for its resistance to rot. Crumbling wood made for a lousy booby trap. If he could carve the longest half of the broken log into a dugout, it would accommodate at least one passenger. Connecting it to the raft would increase their chance of making it safely to the sea-lane.

He tromped around the battered log, studying it from every angle. After stripping away the bark, he’d have to create the boat upside down. Start at the top of the log to level out a flat underside, hack out arches for the bow and stern, then roll the log over to hollow it. Quite a task with an axe as his only tool. Maybe he could speed things up for the passenger’s seat by using coals.

Ah, so much more fun than making a simple raft. He pulled a strip of bark from the log. Unfortunately, the lone axe allowed for only one workman on the dugout, whereas the raft benefitted from two sets of hands. His and Eve’s. His grin broadened into a smile. In two weeks they’d go back for the cured bamboo. Spend days together assembling the raft. Sail it to the finished dugout, or vice versa, and attach the two. He gazed out at the tossing ocean. For sure they’d test the vessel’s seaworthiness with the four of them aboard before sailing to the sea-lane. Then off they’d go, loaded with provisions in case they had to wait for a ship to rescue them.

Eve rounded the corner of the sandbar, and the sweetness of honeycomb rose up in him. “Hey, come take a look.” He helped her up the largest boulder and took her arm to maneuver her around the worst of the debris. He’d need to make a safe path for her and Crystal to visit him.

“Do you see a boat in there like you’d hoped?” Eve studied the log.

“Call me Pygmalion, if you will.” Jake waggled his eyebrows. “Keep me company when you can, and you shall see a beautiful maiden emerge.”

Eve snorted, but her eyes danced. “Besides me?”

He liked it when she joked with him. “A better swimmer, anyway.”

“What, my towrope wasn’t enough for you?” She made a face at him. “Tell me what you have planned while we get fruit.”

When she scooted off the boulders without his help, he found himself disappointed.

Did nobody but her notice the change? Crystal huffed as Jake and Eve disappeared around the bend of the sandbar. Could no one but her see that Jake and Eve enjoyed each other’s company now? Preferred each other, even? They hardly went anywhere without the other. Okay, at first it made sense—gathering fruit and fishing and stuff together while Jake got over his injury—but, still, was sitting next to each other, arms touching, normal for them? Or helping each other, hand to hand, when they climbed trees . . . or rocks? And what about the smiles and laughter and silly jokes?

Ha! She knew puppy love when she saw it. The kids at school were always leaping in and out of love like frogs on a hot skillet.

She withdrew her head from the cliff’s edge and huffed louder, the noise lending at least some comfort to her sore heart. Should she point out the budding romance to Aunt Betty? She knew what Aunt Betty would do: scold Jake and tell him not to make the same mistake she had made in marrying Uncle Frank. It was no secret Eve didn’t cotton to God.

She hunched her shoulders and scrunched her nose. No, a big huh-uh. That idea made her heart even sorer. But what if Eve changed her mind about God? And what if she and Jake got married? Maybe, just maybe, they’d adopt her. She slipped her hands to her shoulders and gave herself an exuberant hug. Yes, that was what she wanted!

A sea gull cawed overhead and flew out to sea. Crystal squinted at the horizon of blue upon blue. It was empty, but what if they got rescued before Eve changed her mind? Jake had said any day now the loggers might return to the island for more mahogany. Rescue could be right around the corner. Or he might get the raft and canoe done, and they’d rescue themselves.

She chewed her lower lip. There must be something she could do to help move things along.

Tightening her grip on the branch above her, Crystal peered down, down, down through the layers of leaves to the jungle floor. Would Aunt Betty ever have a fit if she knew Eve let her climb this high! How many times had she watched
The Jungle Book
and wished she could swing through the trees and talk to the animals like Mowgli did? Well, forget it. Getting fruit with Eve was all the excitement she needed.

“Here you go.” Eve climbed down a branch and dropped several mangos into the pouch Crystal made by holding out the front of her shirt. It was getting pretty full. She’d better hurry if she was going to carry out her plan. A simple question—how hard could that be?

“Eve?” She swallowed as her throat went dry. “Why won’t you become a Christian?”

Eve halted in the middle of reaching for a mango. Crystal’s heart stopped too.

“Really?” A corner of Eve’s mouth jerked in a tic. She picked several mangos and brought them to Crystal. The look on her face said,
Are you old enough for this discussion
?

Crystal’s heart went blippety-blip. She held her breath and stared back into Eve’s eyes so she’d get the answer: Yes!

“Okay, young lady. To begin with, if there’s a God, why doesn’t He do something about evil?”

“Oh, I know the answer to that!” Crystal’s insides lit up like a lighthouse from Heaven.

“Tuh!” Eve turned her back and climbed to a higher branch.

Crystal lifted her chin. Hey, how many times had she heard Eve talk about
Where’s The Justice
? Enough to make Crystal think about it, that’s how many! After all, she didn’t have a daddy, and her mom had died from an overdose. Where was the justice in all that?

Sadness melted the anger tightening her chest. Like it or not, Eve was going to have to listen. “Grandma and Grandpa have a beautiful house.” Eve glanced down at her, and Crystal’s insides lit up again. “Everything in it is gorgeous and expensive. When I was little, Grandma wanted to keep everything safe, so she didn’t let me into most of the rooms. She kept an eye on me any place I was allowed to go. I never messed anything up.

“Then one day Grandma had to be gone, so she left Grandpa in charge. He let me go wherever I wanted. He even let me feed myself, which I didn’t know how to do very well because Grandma always fed me. I spilled on my clothes and on the carpet. Then I got down from my chair and wandered around and made little messes of things and broke some things. I didn’t mean to, but Grandma wasn’t there to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t have wanted to be in Grandpa’s shoes when Grandma got home!”

Crystal giggled. “But that’s how it’s always been for me—Grandma, and after that, Grandpa, always making sure I didn’t do anything wrong. Would you like God to do that to you?”

Eve’s eyebrows flitted up. “You mean, be in my face all the time? No! But how about making us incapable of doing anything wrong in the first place?”

Crystal shrugged. “I don’t think I’d like being just an animal.” She looked across the canopy foliage at a troop of monkeys, and Eve followed her gaze. “I guess that’d be okay . . .” Animals didn’t abandon their babies, did they?

“Well, Christians haven’t done a very good job of showing love to others. How about the Crusades . . . and the Inquisition . . . and the Salem witch trials . . .”

“Huh?”

“When Christians killed people in the name of God, just because those other people weren’t Christians.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know about all that. “Maybe those people just thought they were Christians, or maybe they thought they were pleasing God.” Her shoulders slumped. Why had she thought she could persuade someone as smart as Eve? They hadn’t even gotten to the important stuff like Jesus dying for your sins, or Heaven where there was no sin. What a dummy she was. “Sorry.” She could hardly look at Eve. “I was stupid to try to answer you.”

Eve screamed so loud, Crystal almost jumped off the branch. The whites around Eve’s irises flashed wide. She pointed at the top of the tree.

Crystal looked up. Slithering through the branches, headed straight toward her and Eve, was a huge snake. If it weren’t for its movement, it would have blended perfectly with the foliage.

“Go!” Eve yelled. “Drop the fruit and go!”

Crystal’s heart jackknifed to her throat. She grabbed the tree limb with both hands. The mangos in her shirt bounced off her feet and clattered through the branches. She skittered down the trunk so fast she almost beat the fruit. The long drop from the lowest branch was scary, but not as scary as the snake chasing her.

Before she could get to her feet, Eve landed with a
whop
on top of her. Crystals’s breath shot out like a cannonball.

Eve rolled off her. “Branch broke on me.” Her voice cracked with pain. Blood ran in a bright red ribbon down her right leg. Above them, the snake wound downward through the branches.

Crystal heaved air into her lungs, scrambled to her feet, and tugged Eve to hers. Arms locked on each other’s shoulders, they ran side by side for the stream.

She stole a glance behind them. The snake was exiting the tree. Its head reached the ground while its tail was still unraveling from the tree limb. A python, thicker than Jake’s arm. Her breath punched out of her lungs and back in again.

Eve’s moccasin was soaked with blood. Every step left a trail for the snake to follow.

“Hurry!” She pulled Eve into a faster run. Eve groaned. Her weight grew heavier on Crystal’s shoulders. Her stride changed to a limp. Crystal didn’t dare stop for fear Eve would collapse.

Her mouth went dry. Eve was in no shape to defend them. That meant it was up to her. “Where’s the bayonet?” She shook Eve’s shoulder, hard. “Eve! Where’s the bayonet?”

“Dunno.” Eve’s eyes were half-closed. “Lost.” She stumbled, and they almost fell.

Crystal choked back a cry. Where were they? She’d forgotten to look for the broken twigs and branches that guided them to the stream.
Please, please, please, God! Help me!

A rustling noise, soft at first, then getting louder and louder, rose to her ears. The snake—it must be closing in on them. Would it bite them to yank them down before it squished the life out of them?

Her breath rasped through her throat in painful bursts. Her legs wobbled. Eve’s hand loosened its hold on Crystal’s shoulder. Crystal tried to tighten her own grip on Eve, but her fingers were numb.

The rustling noise increased until it blocked out all other sounds. Her mind went blank, crowding out the reality of what would happen next. Her legs were her brain:
Run!
they commanded. Hold onto Eve and run.

Thick vegetation rose like a wall. They crashed through it. Two steps, three, then Eve’s weight toppled forward. Crystal couldn’t hold her upright. Couldn’t let go of her. She extended her free arm to break her fall.

Her face registered the shock of cool water on her skin. She sputtered and pushed herself to her hands and knees. The stream—the rustling sound had been the stream! Beside her, Eve pushed her chest and head out of the water, choking, blinking. She whisked her hand back to her injured leg. Pink water swirled around her submerged arm and washed downstream.

Before Crystal could say anything, Eve inhaled a sharp breath. Eyes, cheeks, mouth, brow shaped a silent scream. Eve inhaled again and focused on Crystal. “Snakes can swim. Pull me downstream. Hurry.”

Crystal sprang up, grabbed Eve’s hands, and took off. She hauled Eve as if she were a galloping horse and poor Eve a sled. Fear cracked a wicked whip to speed her steps.