Beyond the Sea (14 page)

“
Yeah. I’m starving. Coconut has calories, but it’s not enough. The fish aren’t poisonous or anything, though?”

“
There are some poisonous varieties. From what I recall, they tend to be prickly and spiny. I guess we’ll see what we catch. I’ve seen some TV shows on tropical fishing, so fingers crossed. I know what pufferfish look like, and we definitely won’t eat those.”

“
Maybe we shouldn’t risk it.”

“
We’re out of protein bars. We’ll be careful. Start with a bite at a time. I don’t see what else we can do. We need protein, especially if…”

Troy swallowed hard. “Right. Okay.” He rubbed a hand over his stubbly face, thinking about the now. “Oh! Where’s the mirror?” Brian passed it to him, and Troy lined up the light through the hole and scanned the horizon.

He took a break from the mirror as they ate their coconut, debating whether the chirruping noise they often heard was some variety of cicada or something else altogether. “Maybe they’re nargles,” Brian said.

With a big, real laugh, Troy grinned. “I didn’t peg you for a Harry Potter fan.”

“
Sure, why not?”

“
I dunno. You’re like…a pilot. Who knows all this technical stuff. I guess I never think of people who are pilots and doctors and do important things reading Harry Potter.” He raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe you’ve just seen the movies?” He teased, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I
guess
.”

“
I solemnly swear I have read all the books. And am up to no good, of course.”

As they discussed random Potter things, it felt good to talk about something normal. Troy could have sat there all day chatting about Hogwarts, but the tide was retreating, and Brian had carved a makeshift fishing pole with clear line triple knotted around the end. He explained the lures and hooks, and they walked out on the wet sand, nearing the reef.

“
Wow.” Troy squinted at the colorful coral some distance ahead. The water sloshed around his ankles, and he shifted the empty coconut shell he carried from one hand to the other.

“
You stay here. Just in case. Have to be careful not to step on any stonefish or eels or whatever else might be down there.” Brian had brought the sole pair of flip-flops and slipped them on now.

“
Okay.” Troy examined the water for any sign of snakes or things that might bite or sting. But all he saw around him was sand.

He waited while Brian carefully picked his way closer to the reef, the water coming up closer to his knees. Brian wore his hat, and Troy was glad he’d put on the orange bandanna. He was used to the sun, but here in the tropics it was much more powerful. He’d already gotten a deeper tan, his skin peeling in places.

“
Whoa!” Brian yanked up the pole and grabbed the line. A bright fish flopped around on the hook. “That was quick!” He stumbled a little and regained his balance. “These flip-flops make it too hard to stand. Can’t get any grip.” He reached down and took them off. “Should be fine if we keep clear of touching the reef. Get near it, but stay in the sand.”

Troy came a little closer, watching every step. He thrust out the makeshift pail. “Sounds good.”

Brian met him and handed over the flip-flops before carefully taking the squirming fish off the hook and dropping it into the coconut husk. “Let me try for a couple more if they’re this quick. Then we’ll cook them right away. In this heat, we can’t wait long.”

It only took five minutes to get two more fish even bigger than the first. Smiling, they splashed back to the beach. “I guess this is what hunters felt like back in the cavemen days, huh?” Troy said. He beat his chest.

Brian’s laugh rumbled, a dimple appearing in his cheek. “Definitely. Now let’s see about cleaning these. I watched Grandpa do it a million times, but I’m not sure how much I’ve retained.”

“
You didn’t fish in Australia?”

“
No. I guess…” He went quiet, his eyes distant. Finally, he said, “I guess it reminded me too much of him. The things I didn’t have anymore.”

“
I’m sorry. I can do it next time if you want? It looked like shooting fish in a barrel, so I think I can manage.”

“
It felt good doing it again. We can take turns.”

“
For now, I’m totally okay with staying well clear of the sea snakes. I know, they could really be anywhere there’s water, but just let me believe that all the dangerous things are in the reef.”

Brian grinned. “Okay. Now let’s clean these. Too bad we don’t have a boning knife, but we’ll have to make do.”

By the time Brian was finished and thought he had most of the bones, his hands were covered in guts and the fish were quite a bit smaller. They laid the pieces of flesh on a flat stone by the fire’s edge and waited.

“
This is like watching a pot boil,” Troy said. “Not that I’ve done that much. It’s like watching a microwave count down.”

“
It is indeed.” Brian poked at a chunk with a stick. “We need a spatula.”

“
Some lemon would be great.”

Finally, they deemed the fish cooked and pushed the crumbling pieces into coconut bowls. Brian took a tentative bite. “Tastes like…”

“
Chicken?”

He smirked. “I was going to say fish, actually.”

Troy laughed. “Well, that’s good, since it’s fish and all.” He put a chunk in his mouth and chewed slowly, pulling out a little bone and flicking it into the fire. “Yeah, like…fish. Plain fish. Not bad.”

“
Well, at least we know we can survive on coconut and fish as long as we have to.”

“
Oh shit.” Troy put down his shell and pulled out the mirror. “Almost forgot.” He flashed the rectangle rhythmically. “Maybe it’ll be today. I think it will be.” With hot food in his belly, optimism fueled him.

“
Maybe.” Brian kept his eyes on his meal, going back to work on the shelter when he was finished while Troy continued with the mirror, waiting to spot salvation.

Brian swallowed his mouthful of crab, roasted coconut, breadfruit, and sweet papaya. The latter two they’d discovered growing on trees farther down the beach and ate daily. The crab had been a lucky grab he’d made in the shallows by the reef, and it was a bitch and a half to kill it, crack it, and cook it. Still, it was a welcome change of flavor.

They sat on their flannel blanket near the campfire, watching the sun disappear, leaving a symphony of red and pink streaking across the sky in its wake.

“
They’re not coming, are they?”

With a sigh, Brian peeked at Troy next to him. Even though they ate well considering they were on a desert island, Troy’s ribs were starting to protrude and shadows darkened his eyes. Stubble covered his face, and they were both tanned and dried out from the sun, never mind the saltwater. In two weeks, Troy looked so much older and wearier than the clean-cut young man who’d boarded the plane in Sydney.

Lying wouldn’t help anything, so Brian said, “Probably not.”

Troy’s gaze remained on the horizon, his dinner untouched in its coconut shell, the makeshift seashell spoon still sticking out of the top. His knees were tucked to his chest. “It’s been two weeks. And there’s…nothing.”

“
Search and rescue is very difficult,” Brian said quietly. “Especially in the ocean. The vastness…” He rubbed at the thickening beard on his face. “It’s hard to comprehend.”

Not moving, Troy still didn’t look at him. He was defeated in a way Brian hadn’t seen before. In a way that made his belly churn. He hated that the optimistic light had faded from Troy’s eyes.

“
We never even see those white trails jets leave behind. I know they’d be too high up to spot us, but it’s like…we’re at the end of the Earth. Or like we time traveled, and the rest of the world is just…gone.”

Brian tried to think of something—anything—comforting. “But we never know when a smaller plane or ship might spot us.”

Troy looked like he needed a hug, but would that be too…weird? Brian tried to think of the last time he’d hugged someone, and realized with a pang that it was Paula on her birthday, an awkward press and back pat that had only lasted a moment. He’d isolated himself so much that he second-guessed
hugging
, which was pretty pathetic. He toyed with his coconut bowl, pulling off strands of the coarse husk, wishing he knew the right thing to say and do.

“
What if they never come?” Troy whispered.

“
Then we survive. They’ll find us eventually.”

Troy looked at him sharply now. “You don’t know that. They probably think we’re dead. You said that yourself. It’s been two weeks. When planes go missing, it’s because they crash, right? How often do they find survivors eating coconuts?”

He took a sip of rainwater, his throat dry. “There are crashes with survivors. That does happen.” He scratched the back of his neck, the phantom rush of fire prickling his skin.

“
But in crashes like
this
? In the middle of the ocean? Middle of nowhere? Does anyone survive?”

“
Not usually, but it’s not impossible. In 19—”

“
Please don’t. No history lesson right now.”

“
Fine. But we’re living proof that it’s possible. We’re here.”

“
We’re
nowhere
! We might as well be on Mars. The rest of the world is gone. Like they forgot about us.” Troy nodded at the signaling mirror where it sat on its designated rock, next to the stone they’d been scratching as a calendar. “We keep flashing that fucking thing around, and no one’s there. It’s pointless.”

“
It’s not. We never know. There could be a ship that we can’t see miles away. A plane.”

“
But they think we’re dead. Wouldn’t you?” He jabbed his finger toward Brian. “Wouldn’t you think we’re dead?”

Brian kept his tone even and calm. “Yes. I would. The search has probably been called off. If we crashed in water and somehow survived, we would have drowned or died of thirst and exposure in a matter of days. With a raft, the odds go up, but are still negligible. And the odds of finding land and making it down safely are ridiculously small. Paula flew the hell out of that plane. It’s a miracle, really.”

Shoulders sinking, Troy visibly deflated, the burst of fury gone. “A miracle. I prayed for it while we were crashing. Begged God to save us. I don’t know if anyone’s listening.” He blew out a puff of air. “Do you believe in God?”

“
No.”

Staring up at the stars as they blinked into sight, Troy was quiet for a few moments. “We went to Catholic school before we got the show, and church on Christmas and Easter. I never really thought about it. It was routine, saying the hail Marys and all that. But when you do think about it, it all just seems…”

“
Unlikely?”

A faint smile tugged on Troy’s lips. “Yeah. I’d like to think it’s true. That there’s a heaven. I don’t know.”

“
You don’t need to know. Not tonight, anyway.”

“
Guess not.” He put his bowl next to Brian. “You can finish mine. I know it’s early, but I’m going to turn in. Got a headache.”

“
You should eat first.” Brian handed him the bowl back. “The crab tastes good.”

Troy was already on his feet. “Not hungry.”

“
Troy, come on.” Brian thrust out the bowl. “We can’t fool around with this. We’re both down weight, and with the shape you’re in, your metabolism is sky high. Those shorts are hanging off you.”

“
I’m fine. I told you, I have a headache.” He turned toward the teepee.

Brian shot to his feet and blocked the way. “So eat half of it at least.”

Rolling his eyes, Troy huffed. “Seriously, dude?”

“
Seriously. We cannot afford to get sick. We have enough to worry about without willful malnutrition. We need to eat as much as we can every single day. We don’t know if the fruit or fish will suddenly dry up. If the nightly rain showers will stop.”

Troy stilled. “You think that might happen?”

“
I have no idea. I never thought I’d see a cyclone come out of nowhere after the rainy season was over. There are no guarantees.” He shook the bowl. “So eat.”

With a sigh, Troy took it and sat back down with a thud. Holding the seashell, he scooped up the mash of crab and fruits, chewing silently and staring into the fire. Brian sat next to him and crossed his legs before he finished his own dinner.

A few minutes later, Troy showed Brian his empty bowl. “Satisfied? Can I go to bed now?”

Swallowing his last mouthful along with a spike of irritation, Brian nodded. After Troy disappeared inside their shelter, Brian went to add more wood to the signal fire by the SOS. Uncoiling the pocket chainsaw, he sawed through an uprooted small tree they’d dragged out of the jungle.

The heat of the day lingered in the absence of the sun, and in the light of the stars and fire, he sawed out his frustration. Sweat dripped down his neck, his hair dampening as the pile of wood grew.

When the aggravation with Troy’s moping faded, a swell of panic ripped through Brian without warning, the thought of how they might die here filling his mind. He stared at the chainsaw in his hands. How easy it would be to cut himself in a lapse of concentration. Their meager medical supplies wouldn’t last. The simplest infection in a wound could kill them. Another storm could come, or one of those sea snakes might bite, and it would be curtains.