I WAKE TO THE SOUND of thunder. I lie there for a moment, confused, and roll into East next to me. The air in the shelter is thick with humidity, but there’s a cool breeze. I listen to the trees as the wind zips through them and—
There it is again. I blink open my eyes, staring up at the tarp as the first drops of water begin. Shit, our campfire is going to go out. Freaking rain. We should have built a removable shelter for the fire. I don’t know how we’re going to relight—
“Oh my God!” I yell and shake East’s shoulder. “East! Easton wake up! The signal fire! It’s raining!”
I don’t wait for him and run naked outside. No point in clothes; it’s raining. I run towards the bright light in the distance, not sure what I’m going to do when I get there. Maybe if I throw more wood on, it won’t go out?
Within seconds I’m drenched, the warm rainwater making it harder to run in the sand. I hear footsteps behind me, then a flash as East runs passed me in only his shorts. When he reaches the giant signal fire, he stands silhouetted against the weakening light and I slow to a walk, watching as he sinks to his knees.
Goddammit!
We can’t catch a fucking break!
I grab some of the firewood we stacked. Firewood is such a generous word for the dead logs, thin branches, moss, and brush we collected. It’s soaking wet in my hands, but I have to try. For him, I have to try.
I throw it on the pile, whimpering when it doesn’t light. Stepping away, all I can do is watch as it begins to go out. By the time it’s just black smoke rising up, the rain has stopped. Just a brief deluge, but it ruined everything. Isn’t that just symbolic of this entire shit experience?
I wipe my skin, wincing as my hands get covered in soot and who knows what else. I’ll need to rinse off. Glancing over at East, I worry my lip when I see he hasn’t moved. Knees planted in the sand, hands fisted at his sides, head bowed. He is the picture of defeat. My eternally optimistic partner has begun to give up.
How can all this heartache happen in the span of a week? It’s taken us days to complete that fire and a thirty-minute shower has washed out our last bit of hope.
Not knowing what to say, I leave him to grieve and walk into the ocean until it’s almost up to my mid-thigh. I take my time washing off, mulling over what to say to him when I see the smoke has gone from a gray to an inky black.
Turning back, I see the signal fire is still built tall, just covered in wet wood and brush, but that’ll surely dry in this weather. Once clean, I head back to our camp, where I shrug my clothes on and slip into my shoes.
I narrow my eyes at the horizon, seeing that the night sky has lightened slightly to a deep blue. Flashes of lightning illuminate the sky and water below as the storm heads out to sea. The moon is offering enough light to get by and it’ll be dawn soon. I take a deep breath, glance back at East, and head off into the woods.
I’m not letting him give up.
I stay close to the edge of the tree line, unwilling to drift too far into the jungle where the light is nonexistent. We built this the first time with dead trees, tree limbs and anything else that would burn. We’ll build it again.
I lean down and grab any branches my feet run into. I wouldn’t be able to get much on my own, but I could give us a head start.
The chirping of insects and the croak of frogs keeps me company. I remember when I first started coming out here they would fall silent, alerted by my loud as hell stomping. Now they don’t care and I walk softer through here, my feet more assured than any of the hundreds of hikes I’d been on back home.
Dad would be so proud at the little outdoorswoman I’ve become.
He always supported me, even when I thumbed my nose at our entire way of life and traded in trees and mountains for skyscrapers and subways. It’s only now that I realize how much that meant to me. I wonder what he would have thought of my choices after he died. How I upended my life.
All I want is to be back on our porch, sitting in the rocking chairs he handcrafted and listening to him tell me of the latest city people who decided to get rustic for a weekend.
Biting my lip as the emotion rushes into my throat, I lift the armful I have now and head back to the beach.
East’s in the exact same spot I left him in. Almost an hour has gone by. Shaking my head, I march towards the dying fire and throw my bundle on top, startling the shit out of East.
“Get up,” I say sternly and steel myself against the anguish on his face. “Get up, Easton.”
The shadow from the soot and moonlight creates a surreal effect on his face, making him look like a warrior who lost the fight. He looks at me blankly and turns back to the dead fire.
“Easton!” I yell, marching over and grabbing his arm. “Get. Up. Now.”
East rips his arm out of my grasp, snarling at me before assuming the same position. I glance up at the sky and beg someone to help me because I’m about to make this man hate me.
“Do you even want to see Henry anymore?” I ask in a cutting voice, heart fluttering when I see his body respond. “God, I hope if my dad was out here he’d fight a lot harder to get back to me.”
“Be quiet, Taylor,” he says in a deceptively soft voice.
“I just can’t believe what a bullshitter you are. All this talk about not giving up. What a coward you turned out to be.”
Eaton slowly gets up and turns to me, incredulous.
“You heard me.” I take a tiny step back, a little worried that I’m antagonizing a man a foot taller than me and all muscle. “You’re a coward. A liar.”
East’s eyebrows slam down over his eyes, a fierce scowl on face. “Shut the hell up, Taylor.”
“No!” I scream, “You are not allowed to give up!” Heart racing, I shove him. “What do you think your son would say if he saw you now? What about your brother, who you say is looking tirelessly for you? Do you think they’ll give up?” I choke on a sob. “What about me, Easton? Are you giving up on me too?”
East’s face breaks and he snakes an arm out, grabbing my hand, and tugs me into his arms. “Stop. Stop, Taylor.”
“I need you, East. I need you sane and willing to try until you physically can’t anymore. We’ll get more wood; we’ll do it every fucking time it rains. You just can’t give up, ok?” I whisper against his chest, cuddling closer when he tightens his hold on me.
He nods numbly and I turn, tugging him back into the woods with me. We grab wood for hours; the sun has long come up and we’re both beat. Which would explain the less than generous attitude we’re currently taking with one another. We scavenged for smaller logs, things we can take on our own, but soon it was clear that we would need to work together on the larger, longer logs.
Something that is proving to be the biggest test to our patience yet.
“You need to lift when I lift, otherwise you get all the weight on your end,” East bites out, glaring at me from the other end of the six-foot piece of wood we found.
“I. Am,” I grit out, glaring back at him.
“No, you’re not, otherwise we’d be moving along now,” he shoots back.
I close my eyes, begging for patience, and remind myself it’s already been a long day and the sun had only been up a short time. “Easton, I’m picking up my side the same time as you. You just need to go slower; I don’t have as much muscle as you.”
Not to mention my inner arms are scraped up to hell. Another thing we would normally not allow because the threat of infection is real out here, but what else were we to do? I’ll just scrub them with saltwater later.
“Just try it again—lift with your knees,” he orders, clearly not believing me, and bends down. I mirror his movement and lift as he counts us down. “Ok, now lift it to your shoulder.”
I hold my breath and use every ounce of strength I have as I lift to rest the end on my shoulder. The heaviness eases up in this position, but there’s no way I can do this multiple times. Maybe more tomorrow, but I’m already beat.
It infuriates me to be so weak. If I was back in shape and eating like normal, this would be easy.
I begin walking back, taking the lead, and roll my eyes as East mutters behind me about taking a better route back to the beach. “You are a pain in the ass today, Easton.”
“You’re not so great either,” he snorts behind me.
“This is the last trip I’m making today. I’m exhausted and we still have a day of chores ahead of us.”
“Well, I’m still going to grab more wood. Don’t want anyone saying I’m giving up.”
I groan dramatically. “Come on, East. I only said that to get you back in action. Don’t be such a bitch.”
“I don’t think I’m the one being a bitch,” he says under his breath.
“Oh my God! I can’t with you right now. I’m hot, tired, my skin is irritated from bark rubbing against it for hours. I still need to make a hike that is miles long just to get water. Could you please just shut up?!”
He’s quiet then. “I can get water today. You can get the food.”
“I appreciate the offer, but my arms are jelly. There will be no hauling jackfruit in my future.” Rubbing my arms and legs to dislodge any little bits of wood that have clung to my sweaty skin, I turn to head back the hundred yards or so up the beach to camp.
“Wait,” East says hurriedly. I turn towards him, startled to see him right behind me. I didn’t even hear him move; shit, how tired am I?
“What, East? I’m too tired to go another—“
“Just listen.” He comes close enough to cradle my face in his hands. Dipping down so we’re eye level, raw sincerity burns in his gaze. “Thank you. Thank you for kicking my ass and getting me back up. You are always there when I need you. So…thank you. Again.”
Wrapping my hands around his wrists, I give his hands a squeeze and gently pull them from my face. “It’s nothing you wouldn’t do for me.”
In fact, he already has. I’m supposed to be the pessimist and he’s the eternal optimist. So seeing him like that…it fucked with me.
“I’m going to get water and rinse off. I’ll be back later.” I turn to leave, but jolt when East tugs on my hand he hasn’t released and I find myself yanked into a sweaty embrace.
East’s arms are tight around me and I wince a little, tapping his back to loosen his grip, but when he doesn’t move I give in and wrap my arms just as tightly around his middle.
When was the last time I received a hug just for comfort’s sake?
He gathers the hair at my nape and nestles into the dip between my shoulder and neck. “I lo—uh, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
I close my eyes because for a moment it sounded like he was about to say something else. It’s probably best he doesn’t love me. Out here, everything is so far removed from the responsibility of real life. Much better to not have his love only to lose it when we return home.
Right?
Right.