Beyond Mere Survival

~GCS~

By the time evening fell, most people had arranged their own little ‘space’. Five people had been selected to stay in the framed building, at least until other arrangements were made. Les and Malcom were two who would remain there along with the Washington family – Vivian, Jamal and their daughter, Apollonia.

We were really lucky to have Les. We soon found out that he was not only a nurse but a nurse practitioner which made him even more qualified to diagnose and help out with medical needs. Malcom and Les were becoming fast friends and had already earned a reputation for being the ‘brains’ of the group. They were organized, fair and ‘mission oriented’ so they were put in charge of dispensing and managing the supplies that had been left behind by the phosphate miners.

Jamal Washington was quiet and serious. He was also a huge man who didn’t take any shit. He didn’t look for trouble and, generally, stayed out of anyone else’s business that didn’t affect him or his family in a direct way. Although he had said next to nothing since we had come to the island, we had learned that he made his living as a bodyguard for ‘businessmen’. AJ laughed and said that probably meant ‘Mafia’. Kevin had recommended that he and his family stay close to the supply area. I think he was thinking in terms of the weapons and other items that some might be tempted to pilfer. It would be hard getting past Jamal. Anyway, Jamal became the supply sergeant. His wife, Vivian was of Cuban descent and pretty creative in the food department. You should have seen her face when she found out that dozens of five gallon, air-tight buckets of dried corn and wheat had been discovered in an attic loft of the building. You’d think she had found a secret door to a hidden McDonald’s. Their daughter was nineteen, pretty and bright – a sweet girl who was as confused and frightened as the rest of us but who had a sharp streak of sass. She was also the apple of her Daddy’s eye.

We all need diversions from the burdens of day to day living, and our little society was already beginning to provide them in spades. As I said earlier, I’m an observer. Pairs and sets were already forming. Out of the fifty-four survivors, several were married couples. Instant pairing. I didn’t think that Brad and Linda were a ‘real’ pair, but who knows? I’d noticed a certain curiosity developing between Nick and Apollonia. I believe Jamal noticed it, too, and nothing gets by Kevin. I think that Les and Malcolm are our resident gay couple. I’m not sure of that because my instincts along that line aren’t real sharp and I tend to go out of my way not to assume things.

One of the items that was discovered in the supply house was a small crate of rolled cotton fabric. Les said he thought they were bandages and one of the jobs to go on the ‘to do’ list was to boil the fabric, sterilizing it and killing any bugs and eggs that may have found a haven there. Although most of us were still thinking that rescue was imminent, I could tell that Les was preparing for the long haul. The Washington’s, Malcolm, Brad, Brian, Kevin and I were helping to sort out supplies when Les made an observation.

“Fifty-four of us. Twenty-three women. Of those twenty-three, I’m guessing that about eighteen are of the age that menstruation is a part of their life….”

I remember looking at the floor. I hadn’t really considered that ‘fact of life’ yet.

“I think we need to set some of this cotton aside for their personal needs. Stress and shock may interrupt most of their cycles but, eventually, things will normalize…”

For several seconds, no one said anything. When I look back on it, it was almost comical. Someone cleared their throat and I risked a glance at Kevin who stood with his arms crossed. His lips were drawn into a thin line and his eyebrows had shot up. Brian was pink. It was definitely an ‘awkward’ moment. Malcom was the first to speak.

“Oh, dear… I hadn’t thought about that….”

Apparently, no one had, except for Les.

“Well, I’ll tell you all one goddamn thing right now,” Brad growled. “I ain’t gonna be a damn Kotex-roller, if that’s what you’re thinking, Lester! Just what we need is a bunch of women on the rag. Isn’t their something they can take to stop that shit?”

“Yeah,” Les shot back. “They could all get pregnant! That would stop it..”

“We’re not gonna be here long enough to have to deal with this crap!”

“First of all, you’re not going to be the one who has to ‘deal’ with it, okay? Unless…” Les added with a smirk, “…there’s something you want to tell us…”

“You first, you damn she-male,” Brad growled.

I have to hand it to Les. Brad’s crassness didn’t seem to faze him. The same couldn’t be said for Jamal. He ended the confrontation with an order.

“That’s enough. There’s ladies present.”

The small group disbanded after that but I stayed behind. I needed to talk to Les privately. Or rather, write to him.

*****

~KSR~

I almost felt guilty about getting a hard-on. With everything that had happened, and was still happening, there I was, chest deep in water, gettin’ a stiff dick. I felt a little bad but, to be honest, I felt a little relieved that everything was still working, too. I guess I think too much sometimes but I also felt a surge of power or strength or something. That part was kinda scary. In spite of the fact that I was basically a hick from the hills, this kind of ‘primitive’ thing was goin’ on. It’s hard to explain without sounding like a cave man or something but when I saw Glynnis playing with Sam, I felt very…well…territorial, I guess. And then, when I saw Brad watching her, I got pissed – especially since I knew he was ‘butterin’ his corn’, so to speak. I hoped a crab or something would come along and clamp onto his cob. I had no right. Technically, I was a married man. Realistically, I had no claim to her but all I could think was ‘MINE, ASSHOLE!’. This was certainly not the ideal time or place but it was all we had. I was trying real hard to neutralize feelings I couldn’t even explain. Wasn’t working. My brothers were watching me. I could tell. They always watched for my reactions to shit.

Except for families, like the Washington’s, or couples, like Brian and Leigh, the group generally separated in a ‘boy/girl’ fashion when it came to living and sleeping arrangements. Sam was sticking with Glynnis, for the most part, but he spent a lot of time around me, too. He was already becoming something of a sidekick. Nick played with him and so did AJ. I had a feeling this kid would have several homes for as long as we were here.

Time got away from us that day. We decided that a group would go back tomorrow and collect more of the things we had left behind and most of the remaining day was spent trying to strengthen and complete the poled structures that we scattered around the camp. There were some tools in the supply house and several cones of hemp string. Before nightfall, almost all of the makeshift huts had roofs made of palm fronds and tied grass. A few even had ‘walls’.

Liz, the wool merchant, took it upon herself to take some of the hemp. I spotted her sitting under a small stand of mangrove trees, busy working on something. Within a few hours, she had fashioned a small net with the string and a crochet hook. Let me tell you, that thing was a godsend even if it was on the small side. Bigger ones would come along later and when some of her soaked cargo was dried, I had a feeling that it would be made into other things we needed. She didn’t have any more of those hooks or knitting needles but a couple of the old-timers had pocket knives and some of that stuff could be whittled.

There was all kinds of shit in that supply house – stuff we hadn’t even noticed the first time we checked it out. Stuff we didn’t know if we’d ever find a use for. Les and Malcolm were getting things organized as best they could. Jamal Washington was making his own little inventory on the weapons and ammunition. I trusted him. He was quiet but I learned that he had worked with security and had been in the Army. He seemed to have a cool head. Brad couldn’t really argue too much with the way things were settin’ up. Ego lost to logic on this call.

Anyway, things got a little personal as we went though some of the boxes and stuff. Les brought up the fact that the women might need some of the cotton bandage stuff we had found. You know – for… well, for their monthly shit. He was so matter-of-fact about it, I guess because he was a nurse and all. I hadn’t thought about all of that and was kinda at a loss for words. Glynnis looked away and I did, too. I know it sounds high-schooly and all, but sheesh… ‘ya know? I guess most of us were thinking about food, water, shelter and things like that. Basic needs. We weren’t thinking about a bunch of women bein’ on the rag – literally, in this case…. I thought Brian was gonna dig a hole and bury himself. Brad got all cocky again. Mr. Considerate. He didn’t want to deal with girly stuff. We left Les, Malcolm and Jamal to their work after that – except for Glynnis to stayed behind for a little while.

In the late afternoon, we started a fire in that rock lined pit. Nick, Howie and some of the others had managed to catch a few fish in that hemp net that Liz made. Vivian and Apollonia, Jamal’s wife and daughter had ground up some dried corn with rocks in one of the iron pans. They mixed some of it with water and cooked it. We had some fruit, too, and plantains. All in all, it tasted like shit but it stopped the growling.

Despite this surreal drama we were all living through, there were – like I said – a few diversions. Even a few laughs. Later that evening, I missed Glynnis and Sam and found them on the beach. The sun was setting. It was pretty, even if our circumstances sucked cock. They were sitting side by side when I came up behind them and plopped my ass down. There wasn’t much talking. I could see that Sam was holding on to his precious zippered bag. It wasn’t so much curiosity on my part but a small attempt at some communication when I spoke.

“Sam, what are you hidin’ in that bag, boy? Must be something pretty special…”

Sam looked me over like he was sizing me up and turned to Glynnis and did the same thing to her. He was very serious.

“Secret…,” he said.

“Well, secrets aren’t much fun unless you tell somebody. Why don’t you show us what you have there?”

I looked over at Glynnis who was smiling at my attempt to coerce a kid. She looked so pretty sitting there. For a few seconds, life seemed almost normal. Sam studied the bag and then stared at us again, as if trying to determine our trustworthiness. I guess we passed muster.

“You can’t tell!”

He gave me a stern look – almost a warning and then turned to Glynnis. She made a ‘cross my heart’ motion with her hand, which seemed to satisfy the little bugger who didn’t seem to realize that Glynnis wasn’t talking anyway. He unzipped his bag slowly, even looking over his shoulder a couple of times. I rolled my eyes at Glynnis during this unveiling ceremony and her smile opened into a full-blown grin. Damn, it felt good to see her do that… Sam heaved a great sigh which was followed by a declaration of ownership.

“I found these. They’re mine…”

“Okay, partner….,” I nodded. “What do you have in there?”

“Firecrackers…”

Firecrackers? Why would anybody bring firecrackers on a plane? Even if someone tried to, how would they get through the checks? The bag was on the small side and I strongly suspected that it had been in someone’s carry-on luggage, not put in the plane’s cargo compartment. Plus, there was no ID attached to the bag.

“Firecrackers?”

“A whole bunch. Wanna see?”

Well, yes, I did want to see. I should say that I thought I wanted to see. Sam reached into the waterproof bag and brought out….a tampon. Glynnis wasn’t the only one who was speechless. It didn’t matter. Sam’s excitement took over the quiet pause.

“See? I unwrapped this one to see what it was!” He held is up proudly for us to look at. “ See? You light it here..” he said pointed to the string. “This is the fooze…” When I didn’t answer, he went on without me. “You put some fire here and it makes this part” - he pointed to the cardboard tube – “go BLAM!”

Ouch.

I risked a glance at Glynnis who had put her hand over her mouth in an attempted to stop laughing. Her eyes were actually watering. I was kinda embarrassed but it was funny as shit. I struggled to keep a straight face. Little Sam really thought he had discovered the mother-lode and, even though this was beyond ridiculous, I wasn’t ready to poop on his party.

“I gonna go hide them now…” he announced solemnly, re-zipping his bag. As he pulled himself up from the sand and headed back to out makeshift village, he paused and turned to us once more, issuing a final order. “Don’t you tell!”

“My word of honor…” I promised.

Hell no, I wouldn’t tell. After the ‘discussion’ in the supply house earlier, I began to envision an 18 woman catfight over who got possession of the ‘firecrackers’.

When he was out of ear shot, Glynnis and I locked onto each other and burst out laughing. I heard her laugh.

Chapter 10

Complaints, Creativity and Cuddles

~GCS~

It’s been several days since I’ve written anything. We’ve been working hard and trying to keep our spirits up. Still no sign of help coming…

I spoke with Les privately a while back. I wanted to ask him about any drugs that had been recovered from the crash – if there was anything that would help me, if I needed them. I have endometriosis. It’s a pretty severe case. I’ve had laser surgery to try to correct it but the condition eventually returned. The only permanent solution the doctors could offer was a hysterectomy, which I wasn’t ready to consider. Sometimes pregnancy would cause a remission but that was out of the question, too, so I used drugs to get me through the worst of it.

Endometriosis isn’t a life-threatening condition, but my cramping can often get extremely painful. These attacks generally come 2-3 weeks after my period. That’s unusual, but it happens. My periods are usually brief and light and I don’t always have these cramping episodes but, when I do, the pain is bad. I’ve never had a child but my doctor says the pain I experience is probably similar.

It’s bad for maybe 7-8 hours and then gets a little better. I always carried my medicine with me – just in case – but I lost my carry-on when the plane went down. They were strong, sedative-type meds – antiprostaglandins for cramping and Orudis, an anti-infammatory. Now they were gone and Les didn’t have anything that would help me, short of Tylenol.

Oh well…. Maybe I’ll luck out and I won’t have an attack or maybe we’ll even be rescued. Others had more pressing needs than I did. Several people were missing vital medications, like blood pressure medicine, blood thinners and so on. Still, with all the potential for personal hardship and even pain, we managed to find ways of escape and sometimes even a little fun. We had to. It was either that or go crazy.

Much of out time has been spent cleaning up our little village. The huts have gotten squared away pretty much and several more have been built – enough that people who weren’t already part of a couple, or a family, pretty much had their own space. I suspect that, if we’re here for a long time, some of these huts might even get ‘additions’ of some sort. What blankets we have, have been doled out and any shortage is being made up with crocheted or knitted blankets fashioned from the yarn saved from Liz’s supply. There was a shit-load of it, thank God. We need a shit-load. Fortunately, there are several who could wield a hook or pair of needles, even crude ones whittled by some of the ‘pocket-knife’ brigade.

Honestly, it’s amazing how creative people could be in times of duress. Palm fronds and flat grasses are woven into mats. Small tree branches and bamboo are laced together to form small restraining walls that were filled with dried grass to make a bed of sorts. It’s not exactly the Ritz, but it’s a hell of a lot better than sand….

Much of our time is spent thinking about and planning for food. It’s funny how little time it took for people to find their place in this little community. While some built, or knitted or invented, others fished, gathered and planted. Getting that forgotten garden going was hard work. Not only did you have to have people digging and clearing, but you also needed people to haul water. We had yet to see any rain. We could only pray that the seeds left behind were still viable.

Even those who are confident that rescue was still imminent seem happy to have a ‘job’. Some pooh-pooh the small farming effort, commenting that we would be long gone before anything came of it, yet they dig, clear and haul with the best of them.

Personalities are surfacing like bubbles in a boiling pot. Les has turned out to be quite the sarcastic smart-ass, but in a funny way. He was dry but compassionate and tends to save his barbs and eye-rolls for those who appreciate his brand of humor. Malcolm appreciates it, although he seldom participates. He’s an academic – an intellectual loner, who probably has trouble distinguishing between teasing and real criticism. I have the sense that Malcolm had tends to separate himself from people. This is a new social experience for him and, despite the circumstances, I think part of him likes being part of real community.

Georgia, the flight attendant, seems nice. She’s pretty smart but a little ditzy, too. She and Howie have grown friendly. Linda and Shirley are… well, they are something… You can tell they’d been around the block a few times, if you get my drift. They’re loud, immodest and determined to latch on to a man, even on a deserted island after a plane crash. They also seem to think they are a little better than the other women survivors. Linda has already laid a silent claim to Brad although it’s doubtful that the ‘claim’ is mutual.

Brad is another piece of work. He’s controlling, competitive and likes to be the star of the show. He’d spent a couple of years in the Marines and repeats this fact over and over as if that qualifies him to give orders. He dislikes being questioned or corrected. His cohorts seem to accept this except maybe for one, Gary. Gary goes along with the group pretty much but I detect moments of doubt and discomfort.

Brian seems like a nice guy - a gentleman, even under stress. I think his wife is a little spoiled. She whines a lot and plays helpless but I have a feeling she could tangle with the best of them. She complains about what we have to eat, how we have to sleep and what we have to wear or really, what we don’t have to wear. Loss of make-up and beauty supplies hit her pretty hard, I think, but I only heard her bitch out loud about it one time. I think that was because she made the mistake of complaining about ‘sun damage and wrinkles’ in front of Kevin. I happened to be sitting within earshot (trying to teach AJ how to crochet, if you can picture that…).

“Goddamnit, Leigh! This isn’t a fucking audition or photo shoot, here! You’re worried about goddamn wrinkles while the rest of us worry about whether or not we’re even gonna live, for Christ’s sake!”

Leighanne turned red, pouted and looked around for a little support. When she couldn’t find any she feigned hurt feelings and drew a dramatic and shaky breath as if she was going to cry. Didn’t work.

“Tell you what, Leigh,” Kevin said with a faux sympathetic air. “When we gut some fish later – assuming that we catch any – I’ll mash up the guts for you and try to get you a little fish oil. You can smear that on your face. I don’t think it’s gonna help the creases you already have, though, and you sure ain’t gonna smell like Chanel #5, but God forbid you should get a line somewhere on that face!”

Leighanne stormed off mumbling ‘asshole’ under her breath. AJ cackled while trying to form a chain stitch…

*****

~KSR~

The ‘living quarters’ are almost done. I put up a little shack next to Glyniss’. It only had two ‘walls’ and a roof of sorts. Hers had three walls but I made sure that my open sides faced her open side. Our places are on a slight elevation, maybe ten feet above the flat plain where the supply house and fire pit are. Brad built his above ours. If fact, Brad built his hut above everyone’s. Guess he wants to be able to survey his kingdom…

Sam stays with Glynnis most nights which surprises me, in a way. I mean, she doesn’t talk to him or anything, ‘ya know? She has a way of communicating though, with her eyes or smile or tilt of her head. Kids are perceptive. When he doesn’t stay with her, he sometimes latches on to AJ or Nick. AJ is like the bad uncle – the one you could be kinda nasty with. Nick is the playmate. Those two have built some elaborate sand castles. Real masterpieces… I often watch him fall asleep next to Glyniss. She stokes his hair and plants little comforting kisses on his cheeks. I think he goes to her when he’s missin’ his mama real bad. He comes to me when he’s scared. Even when he’s with her, he’ll sometimes turn his head and look over at me like he’s making sure I’m close by. Sometimes his little eyebrows dip and his thumb slides into his mouth as he studies me. He looks at me for a moment and then looks at Glynnis. Our two huts are only about 8-10 feet apart but, apparently, this is two much distance for Sam. I was digging a small fire pit between the huts one day when I overheard him talking to AJ around the corner of Glyniss’ shack.

“I decided that Kebin and Glyn should sleep together during the night time…”

There was a moment of silence and I stopped digging and pricked up my ears. I could just picture the shit-eatin’ grin on AJ’s face.

“Really, Sambo? Why’s that?”

“Well, I think I would like it better if they went to sleep next to each other.”

“They’re not too far apart now, are they?”

“Yes. I think they are.”

More silence… AJ speaks again.

“Uh… Why do you think that, Sam? Has Glynnis said something about…uh….sleeping with Kev?”

I almost fell over, leaning in to listen.

“You know Glyn don’t talk…”

Sam sighed heavily, emphasizing the fact that he thought AJ had asked a rather stupid question.

“Oh yeah. I forgot.” Another pause. “Well, I think that Kev might like sleeping with Glynnis - I’m gonna kill him… but why would you like it?”

“I like to sleep with Glyn because she’s nice and she cuddles and she smells good.”

“I’m glad to hear somebody around here smells good,” AJ grumbled.

“And I like to sleep with Kebin because I feel safe and he cuddles, too.”

“Doesn’t he smell good?”

“Not very…”

Well, damn…. I lifted my arm and took a sniff. The kid was right. I thought maybe I’d better head down to the lagoon.

“I don’t get it, kiddo. You already have Glynnis and Kev. They’re right near each other.”

“But if they went to sleep together, I could get in the middle and I’d have nice and safe and smell good and double cuddles – all at one time.”

I was impressed. ‘Double cuddles’…

Big discoveries were made yesterday and today. We were not alone after all. Georgia and Vivian had gone wandering into the ‘jungle’ in search of food. They had only been gone for a little while when they came running from the edge of the growth, screaming their lungs out. I stood up when I heard them screaming and looked. They seemed okay. Nothing was chasing them but they were clearly frightened. I dropped my shovel and, along with some others who stood nearby ran to meet them. It took them a minute or two to catch their breath.

“PIGS!” Georgia panted.

Vivian was clutching her chest and nodding in agreement. By now, Malcom and Brad had joined us. Georgia pointed to the jungle and choked.

“BIG PIGS!”

Vivian kept nodding.

It seemed that the two women had come to a small clearing and froze when they thought that heard something moving in the underbrush. After a minute they took a few steps towards the sound and were met with a squeal that scared the shit out of them. The squeal was immediately followed by what can only be described as a ‘pig attack’. Now, I’ve never heard of pigs actually attacking anybody and my guess is that the pig was more scared than they were but the point was not missed. Food.

It seemed unbelievable to everyone but Malcom surmised that the miners who had been here before probably had brought some livestock and it may have been left behind. So, I’m thinking that after all this time, the island should have been overrun with pigs but he said that that wouldn’t necessarily happen. It would kind of be a ‘survival of the fittest’ situation and that, by now, these pigs would have grown wild. They probably had to fight each other for food.

Sam had edged up next to me, still carrying his red bag of ‘fire crackers’.

“I saw something, too!” he cried out amid the murmurs.

“Shut-up, kid! This is important!”

Asshole Brad had spoken. Sam looked up at me, actually more pissed off than hurt. I lifted him to my hip. I didn’t know that Glynnis had joined the group until I felt her hand touch the small of my bare back. How did I know it was her hand? I don’t know. I just knew. Her touch was an inquiry, like when you tap someone’s shoulder to get information. She had just heard Brad’s remark and didn’t really know what was going on. She leaned around me a bit and looked at Sam’s face and then at mine as her lips formed the words ‘Is everything okay?’.

It was such a small thing. No one else even noticed but when I felt her hand against my bare skin…well, I don’t know how to describe it – it was like a tingle or something. A vibration… Even days later, I could feel it. It felt good.

Anyway, I ignored Brad and asked Sam what he had seen.

“Bunny wabbit…”

The kid sounded like Elmer Fudd.

“What?”

“Bunny wabbit,” he repeated. “Bwown bunny wabbit…”

Again the murmurs. Then a shout. Brad was waving his stick. No, not that stick, although it wouldn’t have surprised me…. He had a long branch that he had sharpened at one end. His ‘spear’. Guess the boy had decided he was gonna spear himself some pigs and rabbits. Testosterone was practically bubbling from his pores as he began to organize a hunting party. None of the Backstreet team was invited.

Then today, a couple of the old-timers (who had been on their way to Australia as part of a trip sponsored by their local bank’s ‘Golden Advantage Club’) returned from collecting the rest of the stuff we had left at our original landing spot. There wasn’t much left – just some plastic cops, aluminum cans and a few ‘floatation devices’.

They didn’t have any of those things with them, though. Instead they pulled more livestock behind them. Goats. Four fuckin’ goats…

Jesus. We were turning into farmers. We were already hunters and gatherers. Welcome back to the cave….

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