Jackson debated how to deal with the issue at hand. His arm was starting to hurt like hell, but 'She made my arm fall asleep' was not exactly a good excuse for a beating. He settled for just kicking her, not hard enough to cause any major damage, but enough to hurt. She yelped and curled in on herself, and he hoped that she wouldn't defy him again. There was something about kicking a small, sleepy woman that just didn't seem right. He strolled out of the hut and stubbed his toe on something next to the door. Reaching down to pick up the metallic object, he realized it was the radio Lisa had been trying to fix, and the perfect punishment for her popped into his mind.

He hurried down the beach until he reached the water's edge, and made sure no one was watching before hurling the radio into the ocean. He smiled sinisterly as he watched it sink. So much for getting back to the Lux, Leese. You're stuck here now, all mine. Suddenly he paused. The Lux. The hit. Oh, my God, the job. My boss is going to kill me when he hears about th- wait a second. I'm stuck here, he can't get to me. No boss, no retribution, no problems. I could stay here forever. In fact, I think I will.

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Joe Reisert leaned back in his chair, wishing there was some news of what had happened to flight 1019. There had been no wreck found, no bodies, just a complete lack of anything. At least if they found it, he could accept his daughter's fate and move on, but this way, he would always wonder if there was some chance that Lisa was alive.

He'd gone to the club to try to get his mind off the whole situation, and was sitting in the lounge having a drink. There were few others in the room, and Joe was beginning to doubt if this had been a good idea. He'd hoped to meet up with somebody he knew and chat, but this had not happened yet. The last thing he'd expected was for another man his age to sit next to him and start up a conversation, yet this was what happened. The man was tall, with glasses perched delicately on his thin nose. Joe thought he looked familiar, but could not place where he knew him from. Maybe I've just seen him around the club before.

"I hope I'm not intruding, but you seemed like you could use some company." Joe smiled gratefully, glad that he had something other than Lisa to think about. He ordered another drink, and found that there was something soothing about having someone he didn't know to talk to. He didn't need to worry about this man judging him, or feel like he needed to justify his own actions, and ended up telling him about his job, and his divorce, and how he'd been trying to take care of Lisa, and finally about the plane crash. The man, who had introduced himself as Dick Farwell, listened attentively, occasionally offering words of support. When Joe finished his tale of woe, he was shocked when his new friend replied with his own news.

"I know exactly how you feel. I know someone that flight, and I can't stand not knowing where he is or if he's dead or alive or even if he guessed that" he paused for a moment, then continued "he… he is, or was, my son." At this they both broke down, and for several moments just sat there and cried into each other's shoulders'. In the wave of emotion, Joe didn't even acknowledge how odd it was.

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Back on the island, Lisa Reisert was in the process of beating Jackson about the head with a piece of driftwood. She'd emerged from the hut to find her radio gone and Jackson sunning, and had not been at all pleased by his explanation of the equipment's disappearance, hence the beating. She had taken him completely by surprise, so she got a few good shots in before he managed to take her weapon.

"How could you? That might have been our last chance at getting out of here, and you ruined it just to spite me! Jackson, do you realize that you just doomed us all?" She was infuriated by his nonchalance at the situation.

"What do you mean, 'doomed'? I think I just improved a lot of lives, actually."

"How exactly are you figuring that? Unless by 'a lot of lives' you mean your life, which is really not worth keeping all these other people here."

"Come on, look around. Nobody here seems too likely to be missed. I mean, look at that guy in the cowboy hat. Who the hell wears a cowboy hat when they anticipate being in Miami? The guy's clearly a complete social reject. And what about your friend, the old lady? She thinks Dr. Phil is handsome. I've clearly improved her dating pool by getting her with this bunch, sad as that is. And what about you, Lisa? You can either spend the rest of your life taking orders from snotty tourists, or-" She cut him off here, not wanting him to finish the sentence.

"Or what, Jack? I get to stay here with you, sleeping on an airline pillow, switching between slave and lover of a sociopath, and running around in a coconut bra and a grass skirt while you go on about heirs to the island? I think not. Besides, we don't have much food, and nobody seems to be hunting or- oh, my God, did those two kids ever come back from hunting?" Jackson shrugged, and Lisa completely forgot about their conversation as she dashed off to find people who could go look for the boys. A small group was hastily assembled and set off, and she paced nervously while she waited for them to return, praying nothing had happened to them.

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Meanwhile, from farther down the beach, Jackson watched as Lisa took charge of the rescue mission, them waited for them. He saw her pained expression and hoped that they would find whatever it was they were looking for (he'd completely forgotten- maybe it was a cat or something), so Lisa would be in top form later. He loved their little arguments, and that he could get at her so easily. His thoughts drifted as he mentally replayed their earlier fight. Hmmm, need to locate some long grass and a coconut, and maybe some string. He pondered this as he went to go find a snack in their provisions.