Realizations
~GCS~
When I came to, I was on shore and it was dark. It was cold too, which sort of surprised me. I didn’t know where we were, but I saw the silhouettes of palm trees in the distance and had the sense of mind to remember we were over the South Pacific when we went down. It wasn’t supposed to be cold. I was aware of the fact that there were people around me and that I was lying on sand. I heard voices and the occasional moan. No crying. I guess people were in shock or something. I could understand that. That’s all I remember about coming to the island – that it was cold and dark and that I was sharing a beach with people I couldn’t identify. I also remember wondering if I was dying. Then I was unconscious again.
I was awakened by the shock of a wet rag on my face and mouth. The rag tasted salty. When my eyes finally focused, I recognized my caretaker as the male nurse who was in first class. I later learned that his name was Les. Les Packard.
“She alright?”
Les’ lips weren’t moving. Another voice. Southern.
“Yeah, I think so,” Les answered. “Let’s get her up and see if she can walk…”
I was pulled up by my shoulders and then two hands went under my arms and lifted. I was limp and fell against my ‘lifter’. It wasn’t Les. This man was too tall. My face was pressed into his chest, against his heart. I could feel it beating against my cheek.
Southern voice: “She’s pretty weak.”
Les’ face appeared in front of mine. “You okay, Honeybunch? Can you walk?”
Walk? I didn’t feel like I could move but I nodded.
Southern voice: “Let’s get her up to higher ground…” We managed a few faltering steps – I think. We moved, anyway. After we had crossed a few yards, he spoke again. “What’s your name? Mine’s Kevin.”
I raised my head and saw green and black. I thought his name was ‘Snoop’. Naturally, I didn’t answer.
The passengers who survived were now scattered on higher ground in the shade of bluffs, cliffs and palms. There were suitcases, boxes and other debris that had either washed up on shore or had been taken from the water before they sank. ‘Kevin’, aka ‘Snoop’, sat me down near some others and repeated his question.
“What’s your name, sweetheart? Do you remember?”
“Maybe she hit her head and has amnesia…,” I heard someone say.
“No. She’s a mute or something. Doesn’t talk.”
I cut my eyes to the right and recognized the flight attendant.
. The group of survivors started to gather nearby and I could hear snippets of conversation. I could hear that Brad person, too. He wasn’t conversing, he was issuing orders and his minions were backing him up. He was saying that we should just sit tight – that we would probably be rescued before nightfall. Some people gave a little cheer. The blond woman with ‘Cuz’ was nodding enthusiastically as were the two English women. ‘D’ seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and ‘Nicky’ was smiling.
“If we stick together in a big group here on the beach, we’ll be easier to spot when the search planes come, so everybody stay together. If there are any red or bright colored clothes in some of these suitcases, we should lay them out on the beach. They’ll serve as a signal…”
Brad’s optimism was contagious because people wanted to believe what he was saying. However, another voice was soon heard.
“I have a suggestion…”
It was Kevin. His tone wasn’t demanding but, still, the cluster of people shifted giving Kevin and Brad ‘talking room’. Several of them had witnessed their little confrontation on the plane. Brad’s arms crossed as he assumed a defensive posture.
“Don’t you think we should try to start a fire?”
Brad’s response was sarcastic. “Why? You got some burgers?”
A few people laughed, probably out of shock and fear. Kevin chuckled at Brad’s lame humor too but it was clear that he didn’t find the remark funny.
“No. But the fact is that not only would a fire be a good signal but we have to consider that we might not be rescued today – or tonight or the next day. It was cold last night. It’ll probably be cold tonight. We have to eat and I think that anything we find, short of coconuts will have to be cooked.”
Brad’s parade was being rained on but Kevin’s comment fueled further explanation from the flight attendant.
“It may take them a very long time to find us,” she added. “Electrical systems crippled communications long before we crashed. Automatic pilot failed, so we were probably off course. People searching are going to have a real hard time. It may be many days…”
“Hope for the best but prepare for the worst,” Cuz muttered. The blond didn’t like that but Kevin was nodding.
JK added the exclamation point. “Fuck, man…”
People grew silent as Kevin closed his eyes. I could practically see the wheels turning.
“I think we need to split up…”
“NO!” Brad spit.
Kevin remained calm. “Yes. Just for a few hours. We need water and we may need food. This place might even be inhabited – we don’t know. I think some should stay here and sort through what we’ve managed to save from the plane and see what else might have washed up. We should set up camp. Some should be looking for a food and water source. Try to catch some fish, find fruit. Something…”
“I can help with that,.” the herbalist announced. I later found out his name was Stuart Painter. “I’ll know what we can eat and what we should stay away from.”
“I get feeeesh and crabs and clams and oosters and shrimps!”
Little Sam wanted to play his part, too. He was dazed and traumatized. The little boy needed a mission and he needed to feel a connection that would bring some measure of comfort.
“For Christ’s sake!” Brad scowled. “He’s just a kid. He can play
in the sand or something… This isn’t goddamned Gilligan’s
I could tell that Brad’s remark pissed Kevin off. The boy’s chin was quivering a bit, like he was going to cry. Kevin bent down and picked the little boy up and settled him on his hip.
“What’s your name, kid?”
“S-Samuel Whaley…”
“You think you’re quick enough to catch a crab?”
“Y-Yessir…”
“Then that’ll be your job.”
Enough said. Brad looked like he could spit fire when Sam put his arm around Kevin’s neck and assumed an attitude of triumph. Kevin had a new admirer, but he wasn’t finished.
“We also need to form a search party.”
“Why?” Brad argued. “What the hell are you searching for?”
Kevin’s reply was short and sweet.
“Anything that might help us,”
I could feel that there might be trouble ahead if we had to stay here for too long. I looked over the small crowd that had dwindled to fifty-four during the night and could already see alliances forming.
*****
~KSR~
It was like a goddamn nightmare. It bothers me to this day to think we might have left someone behind – someone we couldn’t see or hear call to us. I still wake up with night terrors sometimes.
Those who were mobile helped those who weren’t out of the rafts and onto the beach. I took the young woman first. She appeared to be unconscious and I was worried. I couldn’t see any bad injuries but who knew if she was hurt inside. She didn’t stir when I carried her ashore and laid her down on the sand. I pushed her hair out of her face and went back to the raft. I got the kid next. Poor baby was scared to death but he was a trooper.
“My Mommy isn’t here.”
That’s all he said. He didn’t ask if she was coming or if she was okay or if she was lost. I think he knew but the trauma of the crash coupled with the sheer terror of the ordeal had left him in a kind of shock. I didn’t know what to say. What can you say to a little kid who just fell out of the sky into the fucking ocean? A kid who knew in his tiny gut that his Mommy was gone forever?
“I’m sorry, son. It’ll be okay…”
Pretty pathetic, huh? I just hoped I wasn’t lyin’…
. Brad had yelled for everybody to grab anything and everything they could to take ashore. It was the first and last thing out of his mouth that was sensible. People felt confused and helpless. They sort of needed for someone to tell them what to do. At least they felt like they were doing something. It’s funny how your mind works during a catastrophe. Dozens of people had died but there was no time for mourning. Feelings and thoughts become crystallized and you’re forced to realize what’s important….and what isn’t.
I’ll never forget the look on Nick’s face when we realized that plane was going down. I used to wonder why he was the one I felt for. I had blood on that plane. Family. But my heart cracked for Nicky. Go figure. The little pecker had pissed me off so many times over the years. Nicky and…..that light haired woman. A stranger. Did I think of my wife? No…. My family? No…. My own cousin? No…. I mean, I did, but not right at first. Did I think of myself? Oh yeah….. In hindsight, I learned a great truth. While it’s true that we die alone, that doesn’t mean you have to live alone, too. I had done that – cut myself off from a lot of people.
Anyway, despite the tragedy that surrounded us, I remember having a few ‘punchy’ thoughts as we tried to make our way to land. It took almost two hours and the rafts managed to stay close to each other. Leighanne kept whining for Brian who was trying to pull stuff out of the water, When he ignored her, she started bitchin’ at him and he finally turned around and told her to ‘shut the fuck up’ which sent her into pouting mode. He loves her and shit but I’m sure he kinda wished she was in one of the other rafts. I saw AJ digging in his pockets, looking for something. He found what he was looking for and pulled out a soggy pack of smokes. They were ruined, of course, and he cursed and threw the package overboard. Howie was already beginning to frizz and I wondered how he would make out without his ‘supplies’. Then Nicky yells “Hey D! This is yours, ain’t it?” and holds up a smallish waterlogged suitcase. I wish you could have seen the look on Howie’s face. He looked like he’d just shot his first wad in six months.
I guess that’s how our brain protects us a little. Small, stupid disractions….
Finally, we hit land and got everybody out of the rafts and up on shore. Brian starts prayin’ and I bowed my head, too. So did some others. Les, the nurse, was checking people out and reported that most injuries seemed pretty minor, which was a goddamn miracle. Four passengers weren’t so lucky though, and ended up dying during the night. All we could do was collapse on the beach until we figured out what to do, so we did. No one was talking much and most people eventually fell asleep. Damn, it got cold as fuck that night…
The next morning, Les was rechecking people. At least he had a
mission and that was good. We moved the woman with light brown hair
up under the trees. She was weak as a kitten but seemed okay. I asked
her name but she didn’t answer, then the flight attendant, whose name
was
After a little while, the group of survivors decides it needs to do something but they weren’t quite sure what. Next thing I know, Big Bad Brad is issuing orders like a goddamn drill sergeant. He was sure that we’d be rescued any minute and thought that we needed to set up a signal so we would be spotted. I couldn’t argue with that, but people needed food and water and a couple of comments had been made that we might be spending some time on this island, so I offered a few suggestions of my own. I wasn’t trying to ‘take over’.
Well, the asshole got all pissy and struck a pose. His buds followed suit. I mean, what the fuck was their problem? What really got me was when he hurt the little kid’s feelings. He was just a kid, ‘ya know? His Mom was dead and he was all alone. He wanted to help. I thought that was kinda cool considering what the squirt had been through. I wasn’t going to let that asshole squeeze any shit out on that kid.
By the time we got sort of organized, everyone had a ‘job’ and we split up. Some would look for food and wood. Some would gather what we had pulled out of the water or washed up on shore and see if they could start a fire. Some would try to explore a little and see if we could find any other people or at least figure out where the hell we were. Nicky was on the food crew. I figured Sam would be comfortable with him. AJ and Howie were supply gatherers along with Leighanne and the mute woman, and Brian and I would be part of the search party. Of course The Asshole had to go with us, along with a couple of his Boy Scouts.
We hadn’t been on this island for twenty-four hours and already I could see some kind of hierarchy thing happening. I didn’t want to be in a pissin’ contest but I’d whip it out if I had to.
Preparing For the Worst
~GCS~
We tried to save everything – and I mean everything! Suitcases and carry-on bags that had been pulled from the water were opened and their contents were sorted. Only a very few of those who survived the crash recognized any of their own belongings. It was much later before I realized the subtle social impact that would have. We didn’t realize it at the time but a small and separate society was taking shape and those who were fortunate enough to locate their own underwear and shoes became the pseudo-Vanderbilts of the island.
The clothes on our backs were still damp and uncomfortable but
ocean breezes and sunlight worked their magic and by early afternoon
we were pretty dry. Some of the suitcases had proven to be fairly
watertight but some of the items that been stored in the underbelly
of the plane were packed in cardboard and their contents were soggy.
In the days to come, more debris, boxes and plane fittings would wash
ashore but for now we had to try and organize what we had. A couple
of the older men carried pocket knives and cut some lengths of vine
that they twisted and tied around palms. Wet clothes were draped over
the vines to dry. Shoes were sorted and lined up on the sand. Medicines,
first aid supplies and toiletries were piled near one rock – personal
items, such as wallets, jewelry, letters and photographs, were placed
near another. Utilitarian supplies, like matches, lighters, travel
sewing kits, paper, books, pencils, plane trays, cushions and pillows
were laid out to dry. Soggy boxes and crates were ripped open and
we discovered a variety of objects ranging from toys to cookware to
fine china to wool that belonged to the
One of the ‘survivalists’, a young man named Gary, had a waterproof lighter and worked at getting a fire started while others began to comb the beach for driftwood and anything else that would feed it. We were all kept busy for most of the day. We were also getting hungry and needed water.
We had our first stroke of luck. By late afternoon, Stuart had not only located a stand of plantains but also a small, freshwater spring, and almond and citrus trees. Later, Nick, AJ, Sam and the rest of their group arrived with a small bounty that they had collected in the emptied sports and duffle bags they carried with them. It wasn’t much – just a few crabs and mollusks and a few handfuls of seaweed – but it gave us hope that if we were forced to remain here, we might be able to eat. Sam had carried a small nylon bag but he was reluctant to share whatever he had found. Nick said that he had seen the kid pick something up but he didn’t know what it was. He only knew that it wasn’t alive.
“Probably something that washed up…” he shrugged.
One of the beachcombers had collected about two dozen plastic cups and an equal number of small packages of airline peanuts. Water was collected in the pots and dishes we had found. It was a long a laborious process, carrying small amounts of water back to the beach and we soon realized that we would have to move a little farther inland, near the spring. In the meantime, we dug a small pit and lined it with whatever plastic we could find – trash bags, bubble wrap from some of the cargo boxes, shopping bags – and slowly filled it with precious water.
The sun had started to fall by the time the ‘search party’ returned. Sam and I had walked a little ways down the beach and the blond who was married to Brian came along. She told me her name was Leighanne and I introduced myself by writing my name in damp sand. She talked a little. I wrote a little. We both played tic-tac-toe in the sand with Sam, who still clung to his little red bag.
It was Leighanne who spotted them first and immediately began screaming for Brian. The group was a remarkable sight. Most had taken off their shirts and wrapped them around their heads. About half had found some kind of walking sticks. I was reminded of the stories in the Bible, when Moses led his people across the desert. When Brian raised his stick, I halfway expected the ocean to part.
They were tired but they were pleased. Their trip had been successful. Six people, at the rear of the group, were dragging three tarps loaded with about two dozen blankets, some empty jars, a large pot and a length of chain. Brad was practically beating his chest and started babbling immediately, but my eyes settled on Kevin. There was a certain darkness about him that I suspected had little to do with our predicament and a lot to do with the trip they had made inland. When the group began to move again, he looked up and caught me staring. I felt myself blush. He smiled a little and then wiggled his finger, beckoning me to come closer. I hadn’t noticed that he carried anything but when I approached him, he held out his hand and gave me a gift – a tablet of writing paper and three pencils.
I’m not sure why that touched me so deeply. I guess I was surprised that he – or anyone- would consider something like that, especially with everything else that had happened. My eyes stung a little as I wrote ‘Thank you’ on the top line of the page and then turned the tablet so he could read it.
“You’re welcome,” he said simply. Then, “What’s your name?”
‘Glynnis’, I wrote.
“Pretty name.”
We followed the others up the beach. He was quiet and, of course, so was I.
*****
~KSR~
As it turned out the island wasn’t all that big – probably about three by five miles. We had headed directly inland, avoiding the beach until we returned to the makeshift camp. Trees and other foliage were dense in some places but there was open space, too. People had been here before us. Small patches of cleared space - ghost gardens gone fallow.
The professor spotted edible plants and fruits along the way that he recognized – greens, breadfruit trees, papaya, and something he called ‘mountain apples’. At least we wouldn’t starve.
About a quarter mile past the dead gardens we came across a miracle. People had lived here, all right, and the proof was in front of our eyes. I’m not sure it you would call it a village or a camp but it was shelter. We all stood for moment and stared, wondering if were looking upon some kind of mirage. The professor, whose name was Malcolm, bent down, picked up a small chunk of stone, examined it and then made a pronouncement.
“Phosphate. I think I know where we are. Approximately, anyway…”
From the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of steel. Asshole Brad was brandishing a goddamn knife! A big knife. He’d had it all this time, fastened to some kind of holster thing inside of his vest. He held it tightly, as if he expected to battle for his life against a tribe of cannibals. I wondered how he even boarded the plane with that thing.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I shouted at him.
“You don’t know what’s down there!” he spit back.
I’m thinking that if there is anyone down there – and that’s pretty doubtful considering they couldn’t have missed the crash and their gardens were dried up and dead - then they might not take too well to a group of strangers waving knives around. Of course knives wouldn’t matter if they had shotguns…
I’m guessing that we had only walked about three miles before we reached water on the other side of the island. That’s where this little cluster of buildings stood. We could find no sign of life, but that didn’t stop ‘Rambo’ from marching forward, brandishing his weapon as if he were leading a charge against some invisible enemy. I wondered how brave he would be if we actually ran into trouble. Even the mild-mannered professor was rolling his eyes.
The encampment consisted of only two ‘real’ buildings and even they seemed incomplete. They were wood-framed structures, each consisting of one room. There was no glass in the windows and no amenities, like toilets, showers or running water. What there was though, were supplies - lot’s of supplies, some of which looked like they had never been used. I never thought I’d be so glad to see blankets, coarse and rough as they were. A bright green lizard poked his head out from between a fold and I guessed that our ‘enemies’ would end up being the four-legged variety.
A table stood against one wall. It held what looked like radio equipment, ledger books and other assorted office type supplies. We spent quite a while there, trying to check out the bounty we had discovered. The radio didn’t work. There was no food or water but we did find quite a variety of stuff, including some packets of seeds, rope and chain, nails, hand tools, first-aid supplies and….weapons. Four Browning rifles and a case of ammunition was stacked in one corner, behind a box that contained shovels and ….machetes.
Time was slipping away and we wanted to make it back before nightfall. Part of our group had gone to check out the rest of the camp. When Brian and I saw Brad’s posse heading out to explore, he went along while I stayed behind with Brad and a few others. My cousin and I were thinking along the same lines. We didn’t trust those sons of bitches.
By the time we decided to move on, we had thought that it might be best if we all move to this side of the island. The people who had been here before must have picked this spot for a reason and besides, there was some shelter here. The other building, in much the same shape as the one I had been in, had no specific purpose that we could discern. Scattered around the small site were about two dozen small, incompleted structures. My guess is that they were to be some kind of quarters for the people who lived here. All they amounted to were leaf-covered roofs supported by poles that had been fashioned from branches of some sort. A few of them had started to fall.
In the center of this primitive village was a rock lined pit – a hole, really that contained the remains of decaying wood. Brad said that the people must have kept fires burning there at night. He was probably right. We had also found a case of kitchen-type matches in with the supplies.
We grabbed a few things and headed west. Malcolm, the professor, took a couple of the books that we had found laying on the table, determined to discover who had been here before us. I took some paper and pencils.
We traveled along the edge of the bluffs that dropped down to a sandy beach, identical to the one we had left hours before. On our trip back, we made two important discoveries. The first was a large lagoon, complete with waterfalls and lush vegetation – just like something you’d see in a movie. All we could do was stand and stare for a minute or two. A minute later, someone I didn’t really know had taken a taste.
“Fresh!” he screamed at us.
Within another twenty seconds, all of us had jumped into the blue water, swallowing up as much of this blessing as we could. We must have looked like a bunch of ten-year-olds at their favorite swimming hole. I don’t think I’ve ever taken water for granted since.
The second surprise we found was another encampment – much smaller than the one we had left. This one contained only one lopsided structure and about a dozen huts, some of which were skeletonized frames of bamboo and palm fronds. Malcolm made a guess that this was just an extension of the larger ‘village’. There were no supplies stashed here and so we continued on for another mile or so and then decided to cut back across the island and head east until we reached ‘home’.
I was at the rear of the group when I heard a shout and looked up to see those we had left behind waving and running to meet us. I had really mixed feelings about what had happened that day. On the one hand, I was relieved and happy that we had found shelter, water and some supplies. On the other hand, I felt an ominous cloud hanging overhead as I recalled my first thought upon seeing the machetes, rifles and ammunition. I should have thought ‘tools, hunting, food’, but I had thought ‘weapons’. Then I thought about Brian going with Brad’s crew to explore the village. Neither of us trusted him. Somewhere in the back of our brains, we feared trouble. Exactly what triggered this, beyond Brad’s arrogance, I don’t know. Some sort of sixth sense, maybe.
Anyway, when we got back, I found myself looking for the girl who couldn’t talk. She was hanging back a little from the others, looking in my direction. When I beckoned her, she turned around to see who I was motioning to before she realized I was calling to her.
I handed her the paper and pencils and she seemed almost embarrassed or something. It wasn’t like it was any big deal but you’d think I had awarded her a Grammy. She took a pencil and wrote ‘Thank you’ in tiny letters at the top of the page. Then I asked her what her name was. I had been thinking of her as ‘Hope’ but that would change now.
Glynnis.
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