Charlie broke the band around his pointer finger with a rock he had sharpened. The smell of three day old sweat from inside the band was nauseating and salty. Course, everything around this bloody island smelled salty, reaking of sweat. He tossed the band behind him and took out more tape from his pocket. It was damp but it would still stick. 'M', he drew on the tape in big thick print. He wrapped the tape around his finger and stared at what he had made. The word struck a sad cord within him that he hadn't expected.
'Mate,' it read. Who would want him, he grimaced, crumpling his thought and tossing it away. But there it was. In big, bold letters. What he had always wanted. The one thing he always came inches away from grasping before it literally fell apart in his hands. Shannon had given him the slip, using him to prove a point to her brother. The girls he slept with when DriveSHAFT was big, all they cared about was the fame. He had begun to feel like a piece of loo paper, used once and thrown away. No good, useless junkie. Charlie cursed himself and balled his hand into a fist.
'Liam,' he growled, 'If it hadn't have been for Liam, maybe he'd have found a girl, married her and had kids by now. Not gotten involved with the immorality of stage life, or even looked to cocaine to make his hurts go away-if only for a few minutes. No good thinking about all that now, he thought to himself as he looked up to the endless horizon, your stuck on a bloody island with no one to turn to. And perhaps thats just what he needed. Stay here long enough, he could get past the withdrawl symptoms and be clean. He could learn how to hunt, how to survive, fix himself a nice little treehouse in the jungle somewhere and spend the rest of his days fixing his relationship with God.
Foolproof, even for him. Charlie smiled to himself as he gave way to another thought. Claire. She'll be having her baby soon and the two of them have gotten close. Maybe he could have his fairy tale ending after all. Course, she's beautiful and smart, so what would she want to do with a washed-up, clumsy bass player? She would do the smart thing and find some other guy on the island who could find food for her and the babe, provide shelter and the like. Why Charlie couldn't tie his shoelaces right til he turned 9 years old none the less track a wild boar, gut it and cook it up right. The guy Claire'd want would be Boone. Handsome chap with a good heart and all the right talents to survive on an island. But not him. Heck, he's still going through withdrawl. What girl in her right mind would want an addict boyfriend? Not Claire. She deserves better. The best. And her baby, he will need all the help he can get.
After saying a short prayer, Charlie got up and walked along the shore a bit. The water was cool on his tired feet and he would need to be heading back to the caves soon. Locke wanted to show him how to tie some army knots tonight and as boring as that would've sounded before crashing on this island, Charlie actually was looking forward to it. But before he headed back, he'd take a dip first, to wash off the grime and sweat. He planned on maybe seeing what Claire was up to today and he wanted to look and smell about as decent as he could for having no shampoo and the like. He took off his shirt and pants and waded in. The current tugged at his legs so he kicked them up and swam farther in. Diving in and out, Charlie could hear the sound of the whales singing far off in the distance. He never thought in his wildest dreams he'd ever be so far off from civilization that the only distant sound he could hear would be whales instead of vehicles passing in the streets. Fascinating.
After tossling his hair abit and putting on some fresh clothing, Charlie picked up his walking stick and headed into the island brush. If it wasn't for the pathway made by many travels back and forth to the caverns, he'd have been lost. It took him about an hour to get there but he got there. And the first person he saw was Micheal, a newcomer to the caves. He was chopping some wood for the fire tonight and his son, Walt, was wrestling his dog.
"Charlie, hey," Micheal said as he wiped the sweat off his brow, "I am exhausted." "Need me to take over?" Charlie replied.
"Not much left to do 'cept this last few. But could you carry these other ones over to the camp? I don't think my arms can take much more beatin'."
"Hey, no problem, man," he said, stuffing his old clothes under his shirt so they wouldn't fall and lifted up as much of the kindling as he could. When he came into sight of the cave entrance, Jack greeted him.
"Charlie," he said and took some of the wood, "How's it goin'?" Jack made a great ally for Charlie in helping him get over the hump, as it were, of his withdrawl problems. What Charlie needed was support and Jack was there, doctor confidentiality and all. Whenever anyone said something about the way Charlie acted or didn't act, Jack was there to set them straight, sort of.
"Goin'," Charlie replied as the tenseness in his face loosened. Finally he was talking to someone who understood. "Headache go away yet?"
"No, and I am about to blow my bloody head off if it don't end!" Good old Jack just chuckled. Even Charlie gave way to a laugh.
"Look, just go rest. I don't have anything that will take away the pain, but don't worry, tommorow you'll be one step closer to being better."
"Thanks," Charlie said, needing the encouragment. Dropping the wood off by the fire with Jack, Charlie turned and said, "Locke is having an educational knot tying class tonight, up for it?" Jack laughed to himself and patted Charlie on the back.
"Nah, you go ahead. Maybe you can invite another friend," Jack replied as he stepped aside. Charlie still had a great big smile on his face when suddenly Claire came into view. Jack winked at Charlie and parted ways.
"Hey Charlie," Claire said in her sweet Aussie accent. Charlie's eyes blinked in delight. "Claire!" he said in surprise then bent over and greeted the baby, "and Bump! Hey Bump!" Claire's belly jiggled with laughter. She took Charlies hand and placed it on the side of her stomach. "Oh my god, is that him? He's gonna be a rugby player!"
"Well, you'll have to teach him cause I'm hopeless at it." she smiled. Charlie looked sheepishly at her and gave a modest smile.
"I'm afraid he'll have to learn on his own cause I'm not much better..." Claire looked at him with such an intensity that it made Charlie chuckle. He was never very cool around women, never knew the right lines. There usually always was a long, awkward silence before the girl excused herself, to look for a more interesting chap. But it was never like that with Claire. "Well, I'm sure you'll have something you can teach him."
"I can teach him the guitar."
"There ya go! I'd rather him be creative than sporty. His Da was sporty. Dang jock." Claire's face dropped in spirit Charlie noticed, just talking about Bump's Da. And he didn't blame her. But he couldn't bare to see her so down.
"Jocks. Pah! Who needs em?" Charlie teased, lightening the mood. Claire's face beamed back up. And when she smiled, Charlie couldn't help but want to hold her in his arms.
"Right..." she nodded, "Hmm, you look nice." Charlie was so glad she noticed. He didn't feel so good on the inside, but at least he looked good. Charlie smiled.
"Thanks," and he took a glance at Claire, her blonde curly tendrils just dangling over her shoulders, "You look ravishing." Claire couldn't have laughed harder.
"Stick a fork in me, I'm done." she joked. Charlie wondered why she put herself down like that. Probably the same reason he put himself down. Only slightly different situations. Life. It had a way of messing with your security.
Just then Locke appeared from the jungle, waving Jack over to help lift the boar he'd just gutted over to the cooking firepit. He'd be ready to show Charlie soon how to tie the knots once Micheal and Jack got to cooking. And Charlie would have to leave Claire. "How does he do it? He's like MacGyver for God's sake!" Claire exclaimed, Charlie chuckling.
"I know, he is pretty amazing..." Charlie said in awe, "He's going to teach me how to tie army knots tonight."
"Oh yea? Sounds fun." Charlie just died hearing her say that. Learning to tie knots, fun? This girl was amazing! He'd be an idiot not to marry her right then and there!
"Yea? You think? Well, ya know, I'm sure he'd be glad to show you too."
"I can't," Claire frowned, "Kate has come over from the beach with the impratical clothing so we can make some blankets. Sayid got Sawyer to give us some ladies sewing kit so..."
"Sexist git," Charlie joked. Claire tugged at her shirt and smiled. She must have felt so embarrassed telling him she wasn't married that first day they met. He had to know though. She was so incredibly beautiful, even more so with her pregnant belly. But everytime he said something that sounded like he was flirting with her, she became so insecure. She'd pull at her clothes, adjusting and straightening. Like she was ashamed of herself. Charlie'd never been more in love with her than when she did that.
"Talk to ya lata, Charlie," Claire said with a grin. Charlie felt his legs wobble. "You betcha..." he replied, as he watched her wobble away, holding her stomach, trying to balance herself over to where Kate was setting up the sewing area. In the other corner, the Koreans were filling the water bottles by the falls, the woman trying to be playful with her husband, batting water at him. He gave her a stern glare and her face deadpanned. Charlie wanted to whack him.
"Charlie," he heard a voice call him from behind and he turned to face it. It was, sure enough, who he thought it would be. There, still fresh drops of blood on his shirt, stood Locke with a woven bamboo cord in his hand. "Are you going to be up to doing this tonight?" Charlie touched his temples lightly where most of the headache was and although it tinged, he nodded.
"Headache?" Locke asked him. He nodded. "Whats the Doc say?"
"Rest...but I haven't been able to sleep for two days straight." Charlie said, and wiped his eyes. They felt puffy. Locke looked at him.
"Your doing the right thing, Charlie. And thats never easy."
"You can tell me that again." Charlie's hands were shaking, his eyes bowed under heavy lids and he had the worst headache known to mankind. It was hard to remember that all this was the right thing at times. And to make it even worse, he was stranded on an island, with no rehab clinic to turn to or even some alcohol to kill the pain. He was going cold turkey. And that about described how he felt too.
"Once I show you how to make these knots, I am going to show you how to use these knives." Charlie shook his head at Locke. He just couldn't understand why he was so nice to him. Why he took so much fancy in helping him. "Why me? I mean, why not Jack? He's the leader, as it were. I'm just a nobody."
"Charlie, the first time I met you I saw something in you that reminded me alot of myself not to long ago. Unsure of yourself, your talents. People always treated me like I was useless, like I had nothing to offer. And I would have believed them hadn't I tried to find something I was good at." Locke said, and Charlie could tell he meant every word. But why would anyone ever treat Locke like he had nothing to offer? The guy was a bloody genius.
"I think the only thing I am good at is not being good at anything," Charlie sighed, fighting back a frown. He was pretty pathetic at 'survival skills' and even more pathetic for telling Locke. Whether Charlie could say it or not, he looked up to the guy. He had become his mentor. His one companion on the island. And he felt completly undeserving of that. Locke didn't need some guy like him slowing him down. He was like Gilligan to his Skipper, just screwing things up. "I said the same thing, Charlie. But how will you ever know what your good at if you never give yourself a chance?"
"I don't know,"
"What if Benjamin Franklin just gave up on harnessing electricity?"
"Everyone would be using firepits, just like us here."
"Well, let me tell you something, Charlie. We wouldn't just not have lightbulbs but that plane that stranded us here would never have been invented."
"Cheerio, that isn't so bad."
"Is it? Because how do you know that Benjamin Franklin wasn't supposed to create that lightbulb so that we do get stranded here?"
"You mean, like, destiny?" Charlie was really trying to follow Locke on another one of his lessons, because it usually left him feeling better. But his head hurt and thinking this deep made him want his head to pop off.
"Whether you believe in it or not, some things happen in our lives that are just what we needed. If you hadn't been stranded here, Charlie, you'd still be miserable, still be taking drugs, and you would never have met Claire." Charlie had been drifting his attention to the trees around him until Locke mentioned Claire.
"What?"
"I know the way you look at her. And I've seen the way she looks at you. Now you said it not me, but how do you know that this isn't-"
"My destiny..." Charlie said, but in voice much stranger than his own. It wasn't any tone he was familiar with. It was confident and hopeful, two words that definatly would not describe Charlie Pace's life. But the more he thought about what he had just said, the more he realized the depth of it. If some destinies are certain, are there some destinies that you chose? Charlie wasn't going to leave this one up to fate. In fact, he was thinking of another 'ate' word. Holding his hand up, the one he had just re-decorated, Charlie stared at the four letter word. Mate. And a smile came over his face. "Okay, Mr. Locke. I'm ready to learn now."
Thanks for reading this first chapter. I plan on trying to update it every Thursday, after inspiring myself by watching the show, which by the way for you who are new to the show starts at 8:00 on Wednesdays on ABC. Wonderful show!!!! Anyways, if you enjoyed yourself and want to see more, just review me and I will be sure to keep going!