An Island Unto Himself, The Novel (4) He yawned. "What should I do tomorrow?" he asked himself. "Gee, I hope I don’t have to go fishing again," he answered sarcastically. Worn out, Stu drifted off to sleep even before he finished his cigarette. It burned down to the filter and harmlessly petered out just before reaching his fingers. So, Stu’s slumber went undisturbed by the smoldering cigarette but not by the sharp bolt of lightening and accompanying crack of thunder that manifested itself some while later. POW! Stu was startled to his feet by the deafening thunderclap. It resonated across the island and off over the open sea. Groggy, Stu tried to gather his senses and get his barings. The campfire had burned out. The stars in the sky were now covered by a layer of clouds. Everything was black. A sudden torrent of rain poured down and the stumbling, barefooted Stu stepped into the steaming embers of his spent campfire. "Ow!" he hollered as he grabbed his scolded foot and hopped around on one leg trying to compose himself. Managing to grope his way to the bus, he scrambled inside. "Note to self: build hut!" he grumbled. CHAPTER 9 At the tree line, there was a rustling commotion in the thick, tropical undergrowth. Foliage parted and Stu emerged from the jungle onto the sundrenched beach, his face obscured by the armload of palm branches he was carrying. He toted them over to a bamboo framework that had been constructed onto the side of the van. He dumped them in a pile, wiped the sweat from his brow and proceeded to fasten them in place, creating a large awning over the van’s sliding, side door. He fastened them in place with tender strips of green vine and laid them in progressive rows like roofing shingles. The slope of the awning got steeper as the rows progressed and Stu eventually had to get Tiffy’s blue cooler from the bus to use as a step stool. It took eight more laborious trips to and back from the trees collecting palm branches before the addition was complete. Unkown to Stu, the whole time he toiled, he was being watched by the clandestine islander in the strange wooden mask At long last Stu stepped back to admire his work. "Not bad," he said walking back to his creation to lovingly stroke one of the bamboo supports. "Just call me Robinson Crusoe," he boastfully proclaimed, leaning against the pole. Unfortunately, the makeshift awning collapsed under his weight and Stu awkwardly rode the bamboo pole to the ground landing with a grunt! The roof of palm caved in on top of him inducing a second grunt. "Umph... On second thought, just call me Gilligan," he lamented. The covert, islander shook his head in disbelief. It took the rest of the afternoon but, Stu rebuilt the awning. This time he called on every scrap of architectural knowledge he had picked up during his tenure in the commercial real estate biz. He firmly secured every pole and tightened every tether and joined and double checked every joint. When he was finally finished he had fabricated a structure that even old man Fisher would have envied. The day was spent and so was he. His original strategy had been to build his lean to hut in the cool of the morning and hunt for food and fresh water under the shade of the jungle canopy during the humid afternoon. Of course that plan had fallen through, literally. Now he was hot and tired, exhausted. On top of everything else it started to rain again. "Just as well," he told himself. "I’m too tired to hunt for food now anyway. At least this rain will cool things off." It dawned on Stu that he could quench his thirst with the rain water. He ducked into the bus and emerged with a crumpled up paper cup. No doubt Tiffy had gotten the Coke cup from the same drive thru bait shop as the cheeseburger and fries. He straightened it out and held it toward the heavens to be filled. The rain was picking up. It wouldn’t be long now. While he waited, the thirsty Stu tilted his head back and opened his mouth wide as possible to catch the rain drops as they fell. "Mmm, I haven’t done this since I was a kid," he thought. He rolled the water around in his mouth to savor it. "YUK!" he snorted as he spit out the musty refreshment, "Now, I remember why! Rain clouds are made up of two things, water and dust. I’d say this one’s a little heavy on the dust." Realizing it might be some time before he found a good source of fresh water, if he found one at all, Stu collected a whole cup full of the dirty water and forced himself to drink it down. He was able to block out the dusty flavor long enough to swallow all of it in two gulps. That wasn’t so bad. It was the lingering, pungent aftertaste that was bad. Just the same Stu set the cup firmly upright in the sand so he could gather another ration of rainwater and went to get under his new shelter. He pulled up the multi functional cooler for a stool and sat down. "At least now I can stay dry while I enjoy the breeze here on my new porch", he said. A drop of water landed on his hand. "Just water dripping off my wet hair," he thought. He ignored it. He ignored the next one, too... and the next,... and the next, until finally the drops became a steady stream and he couldn’t ignore them anymore. "No problem," he thought. He simply moved his hand. But, another leak sprung in the thatch roof. This one dribbled down onto his leg. Another leak sprung in front of him... and another to the side... and another and another until the entire structure was leaking like a sieve. Finally, a flow started directly over the dejected Stu and spattered onto the top of his head. Drip, drip, drip, it ran over his forehead and down his nose. Ever the trooper, Stu didn’t fuss, he didn’t cuss, he didn’t say a word. He simply stood up, turned, stepped into the bus, slammed the sliding door as hard as he could and went to bed. CHAPTER 10 Stu awoke bright and early the following morning. He was hungry. It didn’t take long to locate the local breakfast bar; a banana tree close by his encampment He gorged himself on four good sized bananas. They were a little on the green side. Actually, they were very green but, they were filling. Once his esurient tummy was satisfied, Stu returned to the bus and gathered together his foraging tools. He collected two of the plastic soda bottles that had been rolling around on the van’s floorboard. He stuffed them into one of Tiffy’s spare purses. It was a big shoulder bag, really big. It was made of netting and looked like... well like a fish net. He hung the baggy satchel around his neck and tucked it under one arm. A floppy hat and oversized sunglasses, also courtesy of Tiffy, completed the ensemble. He even borrowed some of her makeup to smear across his nose and cheeks for sunblock. Stu checked himself as best he could in the bus’s side view mirror. He looked completely stupid but, who cared. No one else was around to see him. Besides, practicality and protection from the environment were more important than fashion. This was survival! Stu rolled up his shirt sleeves above his elbows and his pants legs to just below the knees and trekked off into the jungle in search of food and water. He hadn’t gone far before the canopy of tropical trees overhead had become so thick that they completely obscured the sky and blocked out the sun. He had to flip up his big sunglasses. He let them rest on the brim of his floppy hat and wiped the sweat from his brow. It may have been shady and it may have been early morning but, it was already humid as Hades. Stu tramped on. Though hot, Stu enjoyed the hike. It seemed the green jungle was teaming with every species of tropical plant and bird imaginable. There were flowering shrubs and plants, beautiful ferns and vines, colorful parrots. All the colors of the rainbow abounded. "Paradise, this is paradise," he said. Stu trekked on. Every so often his tramping would scare a cluster of tree monkeys or birds and Stu would admire them as they scattered and scurried. "Paradise," he repeated. Stu trekked on. As he advanced deeper into the dense jungle the vegetation got thicker and thicker. More than once his hat or shoulder bag got hung up on the flora, impeding his progress. "This is paradise?!" he finally asked himself, exasperated. "What I wouldn’t give for a drum of Roundup." Still, Stu trekked on. Hours passed. Eventually, he came to a big clearing. There were scattered trees and patches of high grass but, nothing like the thick growth of the jungle. Thankfully, Stu emerged from the foliage into the clearing and stopped to take a break. He was hot and thirsty. He wiped the sweat from his brow once more and donned the sunglasses. "This is more like it," he said. "At least I can see the sun again." Judging from the position of the sun, Stu guessed it must be around noon or maybe one o’clock now. The clearing doglegged through the jungle and Stu followed it. When he rounded the bend, he had reached the end of the dense forest of plant growth. There were two, big, hills, practically mountains, about one thousand yards dead ahead. "Whoa Grandma, what big peaks you have," Stu said. "Maybe I can see how big this place is from up there." Stu headed for the enormous mounds. Passing under a papaya tree, he startled three, wild, baby pigs that were feeding on fallen fruit. The piglets squealed and ran off into the safety of the jungle. Likewise startled, Stu jumped back and inadvertently kicked one of the fruits with the heal of his shoe. He looked down to see what he had struck. "What have we here? Looks like the island produce department," he said. He picked up the oblong, green orb. "Papaya... or pomegranate... or one of those P fruits." He shined up his new found snack on his shirt and took a big, juicy bite. "Pretty good, whatever it is," he said. Stu gathered three more and put them in his shoulder bag. He also picked up a long, relatively straight staff that made an excellent walking stick. The walking stick made his gait somewhat less laborious and the watery fruit helped ease his thirst... a little. Stu gnawed the Papaya down to nothing but pit and skin and threw the remains aside. After a long walk through patches of tall grass and around small trees and scrub bushes, Stu reached the foot of the twin mounts. Without missing a stride he proceeded to climb the slope. The incline got steeper as Stu ascended. The walking stick helped, still some spots proved difficult. No matter what the obstacle; boulders, rock faces, briars, Stu found his way higher and higher. At one point Stu decided it would be quicker if he could climb up and over one particularly massive face of sheer rock wall, rather than around it. He discarded his stick and slung his net bag around to his back out of the way. He stepped over to the precipitous wall and looked straight up. From this angle it seemed to rise forever. Having seen rock climbing once on an extreme sports special on ESPN, Stu was undaunted. He carefully grasped two handfuls of stone, spreading his fingertips until each of the ten had found its own small crevice or crack. He slowly repeated this process with his feet. It turned out to be a lucky thing that Stu hadn’t had time to change clothes after the ball game two nights before. He was still wearing the black, leather sports shoes that he always wore with his umpire’s uniform. These gave him some semblance of foot dexterity. He hung on with all ten fingers and all ten toes as he methodically inched his way up the wall of stone. He crept along at a snail’s pace taking every precaution as he moved one hand a millimeter at a time, got a good grip, then moved one foot, got a good grip, then the other hand, then the other foot. "Slow and sure wins the race," Stu told himself. Though progress was slow, he moved up the rock like an inchworm, pressed close against the rock. Sweat rolled down his face and into his eyes, blurring his eyesight. Every joint in his body ached. His breathing was hot and dry. His muscles trembled and shook. He felt like he could progress no further. Willing as his spirit was, Stu’s body forsook him. He tired quickly and his left hand lost its grip. Scratching and scraping, his right hand and both feet followed suit. Stu fell to earth! Luckily, the novice rock climber had only made it about three feet off the ground. He landed upright, flat on his feet. "Damn it! It looks a lot easier on TV", he said picking up his walking stick and dusting himself off. It was a long, winding hike but Stu ultimately made it around the rock wall. When Stu finally topped the ridge he slumped down against a rock for a well deserved rest. He was hot, tired, dusty and thirsty. He pulled his knees up in front of him, crossed his arms on top of them and buried his face in his arms. He sat like that for minutes, silent and void of thought. Stu gathered himself. Without raising his head he reached into his net pouch for one of the papaya. He lifted it to his mouth and bit into it, eyes still closed. After two or three sweet, juicy bites he began to revive. Stu finally lifted his head. But he wasn’t prepared for the sight before him. Half the island could be seen from this vantage point and it was breathtaking! The emerald green stretched for miles, framed by a thin band of undefiled white sand that separated it from the aqua blue water. "This really is paradise," Stu said as he surveyed his new realm from his lofty roost. "And huge. It would take weeks to explore, maybe months. Man, I’m thirsty," he said, tossing the half eaten papaya over the hill. It soared through the air for what seemed like a mile and splattered on a boulder about halfway down the slope. Stu strained to listen for the splat but never heard it. He did pick up on another faint sound, however. It was familiar but, he couldn’t put his finger on it. It was almost inaudible. In fact it seemed to rise and fall with the wind. It grew faint, then got a little stronger. "I know that sound," Stu told himself. Suddenly, he had a flashback of the water dripping onto their kitchen table when Brad’s toilet overflowed. "Water!" Stu practically shouted. He jumped to his feet and ran through the forest toward the sound of cascading water. It got stronger the deeper into the woods he went until he broke through a clump of trees overlooking a picturesque water fall that emptied into a pool and large creek below. Sunlight beaming through the rising mist from the falls created a perfect, double rainbow that arched over the fresh water creek. Stu was flabbergasted. "This place just keeps getting better and better," he thought. Stu dropped his walking stick and pulled the two empty soda bottles from his bag. "For once I’m not going to complain that someone left the water running!" he declared. He lifted his head to heaven, "Thank you, thank you,..." he said. He started running down the hillside toward the rocky spot where the creek spilled over the precipice. Unfortunately, the descent proved too steep for his pace and Stu realized he wasn’t going to be able to stop. He did the only thing he could do to keep from running right over the falls. He fell down! It was a hard spill but, it was the only thing that kept him from crashing to the creek below. Stu rolled to a stop against a low wall of piled stones at the water’s edge. "Ouch," he grumbled. He could feel the cool, refreshing mist in the air from the spray that rose from the crashing water far below. Stu got up on one knee and started to dust himself off. But, something he saw in the pool below made him stop all motion as if frozen. His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Quickly, he ducked back behind the rocks! Then, ever so slowly, he stuck his head back up and gaped at the sight below. "...Thank you very much", he said under his breath. The sight Stu was fixed on was a beautiful, young, island woman, bathing under the falls below. She was turned so that Stu couldn’t see her face but, from the back she was perfect. She had a toned, hour glass figure. Her skin looked soft and smooth and her complexion had an attractive olive hue. Her hair was dark brown like mahogany, almost black but not quite. Except for a choker and matching bracelets made of tiny white and black shells and small, earthen beads, she was completely nude and stood in water that fell about ten inches below her waist. The water rippling around the middle of her bottom made for quite an erotic sight. Of course Stu couldn’t really see any of the good stuff. He was torn between hoping she would turn around and feeling that he should leave as quietly as he came. "After all," he reasoned in his mind, "she doesn’t know she’s being watched. It’s not right to invade someone’s privacy. On the other hand, how was I to know she would be here. It is a free island. I have as much right to be here as she does. No, I should go... Wait a minute! I think she’s turning around!" Stu tightened his grip on the rocks so that he could lean over them as far as possible and strained his eyes in hopeful anticipation. The beautiful vision never did turn all the way around but, she pivoted at the waist to let the water cascade over her back. Stu still couldn’t see the good stuff as her long, dark hair just did cover her breasts. The wet strands clung to them and separated in some areas enough so that Stu’s imagination could fill in the missing parts. They were two perfectly matched, tanned orbs, not too big and not too small, pert, firm and supple. At least that’s how he imagined they looked. Her face, on the other hand was no mystery. Even with her wet hair matted to her head and clinging to her face, Stu rated her as the prettiest woman he had ever seen. She had soft, feminine features that seemed to be void of fault or flaw, big brown eyes that twinkled with spirit and a cute little nose and mouth with bee stung lips. She was young. He judged her age to be around twenty-five. About that time she tilted her head back under the spray. The change in direction of the water flow moved some of the hair away from part of one breast. Stu leaned in even closer, lost his grip and fell! The two soda bottles went flying in opposite directions as he scratched and clawed to regain his hold to no avail. He slid head first over the rocks flailing and kicking and did an Olympic level belly flop into the pool with a giant splash! The last thing he saw before going under was the startled expression on the poor island girl’s face as she scrambled to cover herself. Luckily, the water was deep where Stu landed. It broke his long fall quite nicely as he sunk to the bottom. Unluckily, he forgot to hold his breath. When he surfaced, bursting through the water and gasping for air, the girl was gone. CHAPTER 11 By the time Stu hiked back to his camp it was dark and he was a mess. His clothes had dried out during the long tramp but not before gathering a layer of dust and clinging to his form. They were stiff and uncomfortable. His arms and belly were scraped and scratched from his impromptu slide over the rocks at the waterfall and he was limping. He wasn’t sure if that was more because of the blisters on the heal of his right foot or the cramping in his left calf. Either way it was evident that Stu wasn’t accustomed to this much physical exertion in one day... or one month for that matter. Home never looked so sweet as when Stu broke the tree line and the VW bus came into sight. Stu entered the old van, threw off his floppy hat and shoulder bag and slumped down in the passenger seat. Exhausted, he closed his eyes and groaned. He had drunk his fill at the creek but, was thirsty again after the long hike back to camp. "Man, I sure wish I hadn’t lost my water bottles," he thought as he replayed the scene at the falls over in his mind. He opened his eyes for a second, then closed them and groaned again feeling his aches and pains. Suddenly, his eyes flashed back open. The bottles he thought had floated downstream were sitting on the dash... full of fresh water! Normally, when Stu went to bed with something on his mind he would have been awake all night turning it over in his brain, trying to sort it out. He certainly had plenty on his mind this night. How did the full water bottles find their way back to the bus and how about that beautiful babe at the falls, wow. This night however, his conscious mind was sapped and quickly drifted off leaving the quandaries of the day for his subconscious to sort out. He dreamed all night. He dreamed about home. He dreamed about work, about Mr. Fisher and Mike and Kimmy. He dreamed about Brad’s baseball games. He dreamed about a thousand overflowing toilets. He dreamed about fishing. He dreamed about hut building... and he dreamed about an implausible encounter. In that dream, Stu was back at the waterfall. He was standing on the bank of the creek below the falls. It was night and he was looking at a reflection of the full moon shimmering in the pooled water. It was big and bright and had a long tail of light that stretched and glimmered across the water. Stu followed that shimmering trail of light with his eyes. It led his line of vision to the base of the falls. There once again, was the beautiful, skinny dipping island girl, showering under the spray in all her glory. This time none of her epicurean body was concealed from Stu’s eyes. Though she was directly under the spray of water, her long, dark hair was dry and full of body. It blew and fluttered wispily in the gentle wind, leaving her exquisite breasts unguarded. Glints of moonlight reflected off the pool and played across her body parts... all her body parts. As if on cue, the moon itself magically switched off. When it came back on it was directing a single white moonbeam down on the beautiful, nude woman... a spotlight. A mysterious haze of mist clung low above the water and seemed to engulf the girl. She looked up and through the low lying fog. She looked straight at Stu with those big, brown, doe eyes. She feigned surprise and tried to cover herself but it was clear to Stu that she was really glad he had returned. Happy to see him, she smiled, extended one arm and motioned an invitation to come hither with one finger. Stu smiled a stupid smile and started for her with the sexiest walk he could muster. "Strange," he thought as he stepped into the water, "it doesn’t feel wet". He continued his approach, obeying her seductively furling finger. He had almost reached her when the dream suddenly went haywire. Stu had no sense of balance. The alluring vision before him tilted off center and was riddled with static as if it were bad TV reception. There was a crashing sound and Stu heard himself grunt loudly, though he didn’t know why. The beauty before him grimaced in sympathy and then formed a pouting frown of disappointment as the dream evaporated and Stu awoke to find himself lying face down in the sand at the foot of the bus’s open, sliding door. Slowly, he raised his head and looked around. Dawn was breaking. Stu brushed the dry sand from his face. "Sleepwalking", he said as he got to his feet, holding onto the bus for support, "what a bonehead". Dusting himself off, he teetered back into the bus, only to be met by the watcher in the big, wooden mask peeping through the side window. "Yeow!" Stu yelled. Startled, he jumped back and once more fell out the side door, landing on his back with a thud. He would have groaned again except that the wind had been knocked out of him. Gasping for a breath, he scrambled to his feet, determined to catch the prowler this time. He ran around to the other side of the bus holding his chest with one hand and the small of his back with the other. "Hey, come back," he wheezed. "I won’t hurt you." The interloper was already gone but a rustling in the dense growth gave away his path of retreat. Stu started after him but, the jungle was so thick and tangled that he quickly gave up the chase.
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