All Kinds of Tension….
~GCS~
Suddenly, we had livestock.
George Peterson and Stanley Whitcomb had returned from a retrieval mission with goats, of all things. That was certainly a surprise. Malcom said that, like the pigs, the goats had probably been brought to the island.
I had a college friend from
Everyone in the community knew the goats were there. People would come to the abandoned property from the river and party on the small beach there. Goats would be wandering around. Things stayed that way until developers eventually bought the land after the wife died and hauled the goats away. This was about fifteen years after the house burned down. So, Malcom was probably right. The miners probably had goats, as well as pigs, and just left them.
So now we had ‘potential’ meat. We also had fat from the pigs and milk from the goats. Milk might also mean butter. We weren’t sure about that part yet. I guess I could carry this farther and say that we had pig skin, goat skin and rabbit fur, too, but no one here really knew what to do about that. If we stayed here long enough, I guess we’d have to figure it out.
Kevin seems to stay pretty close. It isn’t often that I look around and don’t see him nearby. He’s pretty serious and intense most of the time but somehow, we have formed some sort of connection. It’s hard to explain. He doesn’t talk much and I don’t talk at all but we manage to communicate almost psychically. Don’t misunderstand. Sometimes he jabbers away, especially if I write him a question about his home or childhood. I love to hear him talk. Still, there’s a certain tension between us. Not a bad tension. It’s more of a ‘holding back’ kind of thing. I think it might even be a sexual tension. I can just feel his eyes on me sometimes. I think I like it.
Maybe I’m reading too much into it. Maybe he’s just kind and feels
like he has to look out for me a little. I don’t know. I feel a little
silly thinking this way. Although we’re all in the same boat right
now, I have to remember where we came from. I’m a school teacher.
Nothing special. He’s a star who’s probably had thousands of women
– women more sophisticated and experienced than I, and certainly more
beautiful. He probably has a girlfriend or something. I feel attracted
to him, physically and emotionally, but I’m fighting it. I have to
consider the circumstances. One day, we’ll be found. He’ll go back
to
I have a confession. This morning, I was working in the garden, planting some seeds. He had been digging and clearing. It was hot and he was sweating and dirty. Later, he disappeared. I didn’t think that much about it. I had to get these seeds watered, so I took a pail to the lagoon. As I came near the edge of the water, I saw him there, standing under a small waterfall that came from a spring. He was naked, cleaning himself and his shorts under the pouring spray.
I should have turned and gone back or at least averted my eyes. I didn’t. All I could do was stare. My own reaction scared me a little. He was so beautiful. Although he had tanned since we arrived here, there was still such a vivid contrast between his skin and hair – all of his hair – that he almost reminded me of a charcoal sketch. He was soaking wet, of course. The hair on his head was pushed back, away from his face, and stuck to his shoulders. When I first saw Kevin, he had a goatee but now that had filled in a little – not as polished and refined but I’m not complaining. I had already taken note of the fine hair on his chest and the coarser hair on his legs. Damn near perfect, in my mind… I’d even zeroed in on that fine black line that went from his navel downwards and had wondered where that trail led. Well, now I knew….
At that moment, when I saw all of Kevin, I wanted to touch him. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that way before. I mean, I’ve ‘touched’ a man or two in my time but it was because they wanted to be touched and I was ‘encouraged’ to do so. You know the drill. This was different. My palms were practically itching. I wanted to cup his testicles and rub my thumb across their skin, weighing them in my hand. I wanted to stroke his penis and make it hard. I wanted to hear him moan and give me instructions – tell me what he liked, what he wanted me to do. I wanted to touch his nipples and brush my fingers through the hair on his chest.
God help me. I felt like a…well, I think I felt like a guy or something… A guy looking at a woman. Listen, I haven’t exactly had a world of experience but I recognized quality. I never was one to be fascinated or impressed with male genitalia but I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. He was big. Bigger than what I had seen, anyway. And he wasn’t even erect. The possibilities were sort of interesting. And scary.
I have to stop this. I am now officially a voyeur. I hid until he left.
*****
~KSR~
My father took me and my brothers hunting when I was a kid. I never liked it much. I knew where meat came from and all but, like most meat eaters, I never thought much about it. I remember one fall, he had me out in the woods and he shot a doe. Didn’t kill her right away so he decided to make a man out of me and made me give her the fatal shot while she was down. I puked afterwards. That pissed him off. Never have been able to eat venison since.
The reason I mention this is because our little group has further separated in terms of some weird status thing. Brad and his group, along with a few other men and some female cheerleaders, have become our hunters. This is a more manly role than fisherman, farmer or gatherer. If I thought he was an asshole before – well, let’s just say I sorely underestimated his ability to create a distinct pain in my butt. Now he has a real reason to have a rifle. You should see the guy. I swear, I really think he might be getting delusional or going off the deep end or something.
Tomorrow is the big ‘hunt’. He tried to recruit Jamal to join the expedition but he’s having no parts of it – said the group was big enough. Brad’s sitting cross-legged by the fire right now, cleaning and polishing the gun as if it was some religious artifact. It’s like he’s meditating or something. A few are sitting nearby, practically bowing their heads like he’s a high priest. It’s just weird.
At first, I thought it was just me but that’s not the case. Some of us exchanged ‘looks’ - ‘What the fuck?’ looks, eye rolls, frowns and head shakes. I looked over at Glynnis while she was playing with Sam. They were stacking pebbles, shells and sticks in the sand, making a little village or something. She kept her eyes on Brad. We had a pretty good view of him because we were on higher ground and the sun hadn’t quite set yet. I think her thoughts might have been the same as mine. I saw a flash of worry cross her eyes.
When the sun went down, she sent Sam inside her hut and then came out to help me stoke the small fire placed between our shacks. We had a little wood pile that we had been building along. I was standing behind her as she got down on her hands and knees and moved kindling around. I forgot all about Brad. The shorts she wore, salvaged pants from someone’s suitcase that she had cut off, rose up high on her backside. I could see that little valley where her ass met her thighs. You know – the bottom of her cheeks. One of my favorite places… I wanted to put my hand there real bad. Hell, I wanted to put my tongue there real bad.
I saw her at the edge of the lagoon earlier today. She’d caught me, that’s for sure. I’m not overly modest or anything but I have to admit I didn’t exactly try to hide anything. She didn’t know that I had seen her. I could lie and say that I didn’t hide myself or call out to her because I didn’t want to embarrass her but that’s not the truth. The fact was that I was interested in her reaction. I still am. She didn’t run. She looked. I let her look. She ducked but she didn’t leave. I could feel her watching. I liked it.
Beneath all the fear and uncertainty, there was something going on here between us. We were both being very careful, weighing circumstances and dancing around the attraction. It was more than sexual but was it something real or something that was born out of a terribly unusual situation? Were we both looking for a connection because we were afraid and needed a partnership or was this something more than that? I just knew I would have to be careful – for her sake as well as mine. We had both been thrown into an unbelievable plight and while I disliked overanalyzing feelings and reactions, I knew that this was something more than just wanting to get laid. I also knew that the potential for hurt was pretty damn big.
Kristin who?
Over the Edge
~GCS~
I think I’m stuck in some kind of weird-ass time machine. The ‘mighty hunter’ and his street team have returned from their adventure carrying a pole that had three dead pigs strung on it, hanging by their feet. Brad marched into the camp waving his rifle and some people cheered.
I was cutting ‘hay’. I call it hay but I don’t know what it was, really. All I know is that Stuart said the goats could eat it and that if were going to keep them for milking, then they’d have to be fed. Made sense.
Kevin and Nick were nearby fencing a place for our newly acquired ‘livestock’ when the hunting party returned and Brad led the small crowd over to where they were working. I have to give Kevin credit. He complimented Brad of his success, despite Brad’s arrogantly triumphant posturing. That kind of took the wind out of his sails and he wasn’t sure how to respond. I guess he wanted Kevin to look jealous or weak or something. It was a little odd. About thirty people had gathered and I could feel tension.
I don’t understand this but Brad just wasn’t going to be satisfied until he made ‘the opposition’ look weak or foolish. He wasn’t getting anywhere with Kevin, so he turned to Nick.
“Well, since we, (emphasis put on ‘we’), went out and brought home the bacon….”
Brad thought his pun was very funny….
“…I think somebody else can gut the porkers.” He turned to Nick who was staring at the bloody pigs and looked a little green. “How ‘bout you, Carter? You ready to step up to the plate and gut a pig? C’mon – be a man…”
Nick looked like he’d been slapped. Brad went on.
“You know you gotta drain the blood first and then pull out the guts. Be careful the intestines and crap. We don’t want no pig shit in our meat.”
Nick, looking a little green around the gills, glanced at Kevin. I could tell Kevin was getting pissed. Brad kept talking.
“We gotta save the skin, too. Might come in useful…”
The gathering was watching the three men. Nick was silent and beginning to panic a little. It wasn’t hard to tell that Brad was issuing some sort of challenge and that the idea of gutting an animal was making Nick sick to his stomach.
“Ill do it.”
It was Kevin.
This wasn’t part of Brad’s plan. The successful hunt apparently wasn’t enough. He wanted his cake to be frosted with a little humiliation. He wasn’t getting that from Kevin, so he had turned to Nick.
“Why can’t Carter do it?” Brad frowned. “He’s gotta be good for something…”
Kevin took a step forward and met Brad nose to nose. “He’s good for plenty, Bradley. He’s been helpin’ to feed your ass with the fish he’s been catchin’, hasn’t he? He has to check the nets in a bit and this fence needs to be finished. He can do that while I gut the pigs…”
I wondered if Kevin had ever gutted anything in his life. I had a feeling that he wasn’t enthused with the prospect but was damned if he was going to let Brad embarrass his ‘brother’ or put him down. From the crowd, a voice sounded out:
“I’ll give you a hand, Kevin…”
It was Jamal.
The look on Brad’s face said a lot and none of it was good. He glared at Kevin with an expression that could only be described as hatred. There was nothing else he could say.
“Fine,” he hissed. “We’ll tie the pigs from that twisted tree near the beach.”
Then he did the weirdest thing. Brad stepped over to where the pigs were hanging and rubbed his finger across a bloody trail on one of their snouts. Turning to face Kevin, Nick and Jamal, he put his bloody finger on his forehead and ran it down the center of his face, leaving a red streak behind, reminiscent of war paint. His expression was odd, to say the least – menacing almost, and intense. It gave me a chill. Then he grinned, turned on his heel and stomped away, leaving us to wonder what in the hell that was all about. It almost seemed like a declaration of some sort. I had a feeling, it wasn’t good.
~
The camp is asleep now. I have no idea what time it is but I’m guessing is must be close to sun up. I’m not feeling too well – a little nauseous and crampy. I know what this means…
The fire has died down but the moon is full and I can see Kevin sleeping nearby. I’m scared. Thankfully, Sam is with Nick tonight. In a little while, I’ll go see Les and get a couple of Tylenol. What a joke. He gets up real early and he knows what’s going on. I really don’t want anyone to see me this way. It’ll be best if I ‘take a little walk’ and disappear until this thing is over. Maybe I’ll go to the lagoon, but off the beaten path, for privacy’s sake.
God, I wish I had my medication.
*****
~KSR~
I’m trying to figure out if Brad is an idiot or crazy. I’m afraid he might be crazy. He looked like the Grand Marshall of the Annual Island Pig Parade today, marching into camp while his minions carried a pole with three pigs strung on it. Don’t get me wrong. I was appreciative of the fact that he had managed to hunt down some meat but I didn’t think any of us owed him undying allegiance, gratitude and loyalty for doing it. Everyone here was doing what they were able.
He publicly attacked Nick’s manhood by trying to humiliate him in front of a good sized group of people. Nick has pissed me off plenty and he’s spent plenty of time being lazy but he’s been pulling his share of the weight on this island. More than Brad, in my opinion. The man is malicious and seems to know just what buttons to press on some people. He’s pressed mine plenty with Glynnis and now he was pressing Nick’s. Told Nick he ought to gut those pigs.
Now, Nick is the type who would brush a bug out of a door before he’d step on it. Hell, I’ve seen him do it. Sure, he likes to fish and he’s spent many an hour on his boat fishing off the Keys. He’s even caught plenty of fish but, you can bet one damn thing, he never brought them home and gutted them. Even here, he’ll do the catchin’ but not the cleanin’. He just can’t stand it. Besides, that job is usually handed off to one of the less able survivors – the ones who can’t do the heavy work and don’t mind the cleaning so much.
Anyway, Jamal and I stepped in and said we’d gut the pigs – that Nick was busy with other shit. Brad didn’t like that. Our volunteering let Nick ‘save face’. Then the motherfucker smeared some pig blood down his face. I guess that was symbolic of something, I just don’t know what.
Anyway, later that night, we all had a taste of roast pork. A few people got a little sick. Les said it was probably because our bodies hadn’t processed real meat in a while and pork was kinda rich. Brad still had that streak down his face. He also had a hemp string around his neck with three pig teeth strung on it.
~
I was worn out that night but restless. Glynnis went to her hut early, too. She seemed a little distracted or something. I kept watching her out of the corner of my eye and she just couldn’t seem to get comfortable. I wondered if it was pork but I realized she’d put in a hard day, too. I told her a couple of times to put that machete down and rest a while but she kept going at it. It was hot today and her skin looked shiny with perspiration. Even now, I can picture her standing out in that field, chopping away. She had on this gauzey skirt thing that she’d gotten from somewhere and some kind of halter top that tied around her neck and under her breasts. I think it was just a big scarf or something. The skirt, a little too big, hung on her hips, and her midriff was bare. Her back was bare, too, and when she turned, all I could think about was running my hand down her backbone to the crack in her ass. I’m still thinkin’ about it…
I think she’s finally asleep now. Now I can sleep, too. I always wait for her.
~
Okay. Where is she? Dawn is just breaking and her hut is empty. I got up and stuck my head in to make sure. Maybe she had to go to the bathroom or something. A half hour later and she’s still not back. I don’t like this.
Some people are starting to stir a little and I look down at the supply house to see Les coming out of the door. Maybe he’s seen Glynnis. When I ask him, he looks a little surprised and stammers some. This is not helping my growing concern.
“Have you seen her, Les?”
“Uh…M-maybe she went to the bathroom.”
“She’s been gone over a half hour.”
“Well, um, she’s around somewhere, I’m sure…”
He knew something. I could tell.
“Where is she, Les? Is she alright? Did you see her this morning? Is she sick or something?”
“I think she just needs to be alone for a little while, Kevin.”
Damn it. I knew something wasn’t right. And Les was going to tell me what that something is.
“We’re gonna have a little talk, Lester. And you’re going to tell me what’s going on.”
“Jesus, Kevin! Haven’t you ever heard of patient confidentiality?”
“Are you a fuckin’ doctor?”
“Well, no…”
“Then start talkin’.”
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