Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Stephenie Meyer is the author and owner of the Twilight Saga. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
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A/N: I haven't proof read this properly, so all errors are mine. Enjoy.
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Chapter 21 – Ghosts or Goats
I walked beside Jasper as we followed Mom, Alice and Bella through the jungle on our way to the fishing village. We'd left around 8 o'clock this morning right after breakfast as originally planned. The weather is fine and clear, as forecast by Victory's antique captains barometer, and it's expected to stay fine for the foreseeable future.
The girls are about 10 yards ahead of us talking about god knows what. Every few minutes, one or all of them would burst into peals of laughter. They look carefree and happy. Alice and Bella have linked their arms with Mom's as they tramp along in a westerly direction.
"What do ya think they're laughing about?" I ask Jasper curiously, as tinkles of mirth burst forth from the girls. Bella and Alice look back at us surreptitiously before facing forward to whisper secretively in Mom's ears. Mom shakes her head and the girls laugh again.
"I think Momma's tellin' tales," Jasper replies with a crooked grin. I chuckle ruefully. Unfortunately, I think he is probably right and our mother is spilling our childhood transgressions. Probably some of our adult ones as well if the amount of laughter is any indication.
"Well let us hope she's not divulging anything too incriminating," I say, only half joking. Jasper huffs in agreement. "Alice and Mom seem to have reconciled since the lava tube debacle," I remark.
"Yeah, they had a long talk yesterday and sorted everything out." Jasper is contemplative for a few moments. "Alice told Mom – about her depression, I mean."
"Oh."
"Yeah, it's not like she can really keep her treatment a secret in our small community, not with Dad and Bella brewing a special tea for her every night."
"I 'spose not. How did Mom take it?"
Jasper scoffed. "She said it explained a lot."
I snorted. It must have been loud enough to call the girls attention, because the three of them looked back at us curiously. I wave and shake my head indicating nothing is wrong.
"What are you and Bella up to?"
I look at him warily. "What do you mean?"
"You've been sneaking off for a few hours each day. When you come back, Bella hides something in the kitchen area."
"Have you looked?"
"Nah, but what are you two planning? Is it something to do with that shack I helped Bella build?"
How much to tell him? If I say too much, it will spoil the surprise. On the other hand, telling my brother would be harmless and give him something to look forward to. And he'll help to keep the secret if the others notice and get curious.
"You can't say anything, alright?" I say quietly. He nods. "We're makin' soap."
Jasper's eyes widen. "Soap!"
"Shhssh," I hiss at him waving my hand frantically. "It's a Thanksgiving surprise, okay? You can't say anything."
"What type of soap?" he asks eagerly.
"All types. We've made bath soap, laundry soap and dish soap so far. Bella wants to make some shampoo next. She's also experimenting with recipes for moisturizing lotion and hand cream, but our first batch didn't work out too well – it looked and smelled like curdled custard," I say with a shudder of remembered revulsion.
"Fucking ace, man! Where did Bella get the ingredients to make soap?"
"She's been extracting oil from coconuts, palm fruit and kukui nuts, and she's been collecting the fire ashes and rainwater to make the lye."
"She's a talented woman, that girl of yours," Jasper remarks with awe.
I nod. "That she is. Just keep the secret, okay? The first batch of bath soap should be cured and ready in a few weeks."
"I will, I will! Wow, soap. The girls are gonna be ecstatic, especially Alice." Don't I know it – even I can't wait to lather up with one of the lightly scented coconut bars.
"How are your hands?" I ask him, nodding toward his wrapped limbs. He holds up the slightly swollen and obviously painful extremities.
He grimaces. "Fucking sore!"
"You want me to ask Bella for some painkillers for you?"
He considers for a moment before deciding. "Not yet, I'll wait until the next stop. It's only about half an hour to wait."
"Mom fucking freaked when you fell out of that tree," I remember out loud.
He snorts with irony. "Mom freaked? I fucking freaked, Edward! One minute, I'm securely tethered to the tree cutting away branches so the antenna mast will be straight, and then next thing I know, I'm loose and trying to clutch onto the trunk to break my fall." He shudders in recollection.
All I remember was the screaming of Mom and the girls as they watched him fall while Dad, Emmett and I raced forward to try and catch him before he hit the ground. I didn't give my broken arm a single thought. I was only concerned with my brother's safety. Thankfully, he was able to break his own fall, emerging from the tree remarkably uninjured except for his manly pride. Unfortunately his hands took the full brunt of his freefall and they were full of deeply embedded splinters from where his hands had gripped the trunk.
"Are you sure you should have come? We could have delayed the trip or Dad could have come with us instead."
"No, Ed, I wanted to come. Alice has been looking forward to getting away, and truthfully, I could do with the break as well. I know we're close to being finished with the house and movin' in and all, but I'm tired. All of this worry over Alice hasn't helped either. I need this," he tells me.
I nod in understanding – I'm tired as well, we all are. It had been three long months of back-breaking work with few labor saving tools. Stripping the boat had taken weeks and cutting enough bamboo and tree branches, not to mention dragging it all back to camp had taken weeks more. Once we had enough materials, building on the house had begun in earnest. Emmett hadn't let up on any of us, not that we objected very much.
The girls had trimmed bamboo and branches to length, and weaved wall panels and mats until their hands were blistered and bleeding. Not one of them complained, not even Alice. Mom and Bella looked after the garden and did all of the cooking, and all of the girls went foraging for food every day. Jasper fished and checked the animal traps while Alice put her not inconsiderable sewing skills to good use turning the twin-berth sheets and blankets into queen-sized ones suitable for larger beds. Thankfully, she forgave me and Jasper for neglecting to tell her we had a sewing machine. Jasper had been in the dog-house with his tiny dynamo of a wife for two days, while I got off scott-free.
"How many splinters did Dad and Bella pull out of your hands?"
"Nine out of my left hand and seven from the right one."
"Any sign of infection?"
"Not yet, thank Christ, but Dad made me promise to tell Bella immediately if I experienced any onset signs like fever, pus or stiffness in my arms."
"I hope to fuck, nothin' happens this weekend, man, because we're not gonna be much good to them (I indicated the women ahead of us) if shit goes down. Not with my broken arm and both your hands out of commission," I say worriedly. Jasper doesn't respond, but his face reflects the same sense of worry I'm certain mine does at this moment.
"Rest break, ladies," Jasper calls a few minutes later.
We all come to a halt in a small clearing, unloading our beach-bag backpacks and sitting down for a fifteen minute rest. Bella hands out snacks of bananas and coconut sponge cake for energy while Mom pours the rest of the moringa tea from the thermos we'd brought. Jasper checks the map he'd made from memory, announcing his estimate of another hour before we reach the fishing village. That timeframe will have us arriving at the village between 12.30 and 1 pm.
"How are you feeling, Jazzy?" Alice says, sitting close to her husband. She cradles one of his wrapped hands between her own.
"I'm good, darlin'."
"No fibbing, Jasper, to make me feel better," she tells him sternly.
"No, darlin', they're sore, but not more than they were this morning, I swear."
Alice looks skeptical. "Well okay," she says at last, "but you promise to tell me if that changes?"
Jasper kisses her temple reassuringly. "I will, Alice."
Bella pulls the first aid kit from her pack and shakes two painkillers from a small capped bottle and an antibiotic capsule from another one. She hands them to Jasper who takes them dutifully and swallows them down with a swig of water from his bottle.
I sit down behind her, my legs either side of hers. She leans back against my chest and sips her tea as she nibbles on her snack. "How you doin', princess?" I ask her quietly as I nuzzle her ear.
Bella squirms against me. Her ears are very sensitive I've come to realize. "I'm fine, Edward. I'm excited about reaching the fishing village and exploring."
"Not about spending time with me?" I say as I suck her lobe into my mouth. My mother is thankfully engaged in searching for something in her pack.
"You know I am."
"But not as much as spending time exploring the village?" I say with a whiny note in my voice.
She chews on her lip and twists her hands nervously. "Are you mad?" she asks me worriedly.
I notice she does not deny that spending time in the fishing village holds more excitement for her than spending time alone with me. If I were a less confident man, I might feel annoyed at her disinterest. I cuddle her reassuringly, pushing the querulous feeling away. "No, Bella, I'm not mad. I'm a little jealous that an ancient mound of dirt, rock and huts holds more allure for you than me at the moment, but I'll get over it," I tell her, pouting boyishly.
She leans her head back against my shoulder to look up at me. "Good. You do that," she says pithily. I chuckle and bend down to kiss her upturned mouth.
"What were you ladies laughing about before?" I ask her when I release her mouth.
"Nothing you need to worry about," she tells me dismissively, a secretive smile skirting around her mouth.
"Was my mother telling tales?" I ask her as my hand rests at her side. I am prepared to tickle her mercilessly to get the truth from her if I have to. She ignores me, sipping at her tea. My fingers slip under her t-shirt and skate across the sensitive skin of her side. She jerks and giggles involuntarily.
"Don't you do it!" she warns as she clutches my hand through the poly-cotton cloth.
"I will," I threaten, dancing my fingers over her skin again. She giggles and wiggles her rump against my groin. I groan as my dick reacts predictably to contact with her delicious ass. It is the inappropriateness of my involuntary arousal in the presence of my mother that makes me desist as Bella asked. We sit quietly for the rest of the rest period waiting for Little Eddie to calm down, hidden from prying eyes behind Bella.
"Let's go," says Jasper as Alice braces a booted foot against a fallen log and clutches his forearms to help him stand. Our girls help us on with our packs and we set off again in a westerly direction. This time, I walk with Bella, holding her hand while Mom walks with Jasper and Alice.
"What do you expect to find at the village?" I ask Bella curiously. I don't know much about anthropology, or what she expects to find in a village that was obviously abandoned decades if not hundreds of years ago.
"Evidence of the former inhabitants way of life," she explains.
"What type of evidence?"
"How they built their huts; what their fishing nets and work tools are like," she says warming up to the subject, "what they carved their cooking implements from and how they made their clothes. Things like that."
"Are you expecting it to be different to what you already know of the Polynesian history?"
"Possibly there are some differences. Like all races who venture forth to build new colonies, the people adapt their culture to meet the conditions of the land and the climate. This island bears some of the plants, trees and animals I expect to find in a Polynesian settlement, but there are other things here I find unusual."
I frown. "Like what?"
"Well, the bamboo, the iguanas and the moringa tree for example. They're not species indigenous or endemic to the Pacific islands. They are introduced species, but as far as I can tell, no one has lived on this island for a very, very long time."
"So you're saying, that the presence of those species indicates that somebody other than the Polynesians brought them here?"
"Exactly."
"Then why haven't we seen any other evidence of a settlement, like buildings or items left behind by explorers or other shipwreck survivors? Weren't explorers and shipwrecks fairly common in the Pacific region two hundred years ago?" I ask her.
"Yes, and that's what I'm hoping to confirm by exploring the village. If these explorers interacted with the islanders, there might be evidence of it. The islanders may have traded with the explorers."
"And this is important because?"
"It's not," she says with a laugh. "It is interesting to me, but the answer's not crucial to our survival other than as a curiosity to be explained. However, if these explorers introduced the foreign species we already know of, what else did they bring here that we haven't yet found?"
I shrug. "Other animals and plants, or perhaps tools," I say.
"Exactly. We've only explored the southern side of the island and now we're heading to the west. There is still the east and northern sides to discover. There might be many useful discoveries," she says as exhilaration glows from her eyes.
I squeeze her hand, loving the excitement of discovery that lights up her face. She is probably the only one of our group who is not all that disappointed to be here on this island, from a purely academic point of view, of course. "Okay, Princess Manulani, I tell you what. After Christmas when the dry season is well established, we'll set up a trip to explore other parts of the island. What do you say?"
"Really?" I nod and grin. "I say yes!" she says excitedly.
…
We arrive at the fishing village at just on 1 pm. We are all weary and in need of a rest. Although the humidity is dropping as the wet season comes to an end, carrying our heavy packs for four hours has taken its toll on our bodies. We (as in Jasper and I) decide the group will rest for a while and refresh ourselves with some water and food. Bella stares at me with incredulity and I am forced to physically restrain her from racing off to explore the village as soon as we arrive. She sits impatiently, looking around with rapidly moving eyes as she tries to absorb everything in sight.
"Relax, Bella," I chide. "As soon as we rest for a bit, we'll set up the tent and I'll go with you to explore, I promise."
She sighs and pouts. "Oh, alright. It's just … I feel like I've been waiting forever to see the village since Jasper told me about it, and now that we're here, I don't want to waste one moment!"
"One hour, tops. I promise," I say again. She nods reluctantly and continues to look around with a glum expression. I can imagine her making mental notes in her head about what to explore first. "Let's pick a good spot for the tent," I say to the others before Bella loses patience and goes off on her own.
"How about over there on that flat ground by the creek?" Jasper says, pointing to a grassy clearing shaded by tall palm trees.
"Looks good to me," I agree. "It's flat, shaded and close to water. Mom and I will pitch the tent while Alice and Bella collect some stones and wood for a fire," I say, taking the lead. "Take a load off, Jazz," I tell him, climbing to my feet. "Don't go too far for the stones and the firewood," I tell the girls. As they wander away, I notice Bella is looking at the dilapidated remnants of the huts rather than where she is going.
"Bella!" I bark. She looks up, annoyed at my tone. "Concentrate on where you're goin'," I reprimand her sharply. She narrows her eyes at me in a glare. "I don't want you getting lost," I call to her gently. Her face softens in understanding, and she pays better attention to her immediate surroundings rather than the village she is itching to explore.
Within 40 minutes, Mom and I have erected the sail tent and the girls have made a fire pit encircled with stones. It is loaded with firewood ready to light when it gets dark. We have collected water from the creek ready to boil and I have dropped a small fishing net into the lagoon at Jasper's direction. We situate our improvised camp beds of rolled up sun-lounge mattresses in the tent. Each of us has a blanket to keep away the overnight chill.
"Now?" asks Bella impatiently.
I roll my eyes. "Yes, now." She runs off in the direction of the village proper, tripping over her own feet in her enthusiasm. She falls to her hands and knees and I race after her, concerned she is hurt. "Bella! Bella! Are you alright?" I scream as I reach her side.
She looks ruefully irritated with herself as I help her stand. "Yeah, Edward, I'm fine. I'm just a klutz is all," she says as she brushes off her hands and knees. I breath a sigh of relief that there are no bleeding wounds.
"Slow down for goodness sake," I scowl at her. "This village has withstood the sands of time for hundreds of years. It's not going anywhere." My voice holds an edge of annoyance I cannot hide. I hold out my hand in command. "I'll go with you." She takes my hand and we walk into the village at the slower pace I enforce. "Where do you want to go first?"
"Over there," she says, indicating a number of dilapidated huts built in a semi circle around what looks to be a large open common area. On the opposite side is a triangular structure that is open at both ends. There looks to be the remnants of a canoes inside resting on chocks off the ground. One of them has tumbled off and has smashed into pieces.
Most of the huts are surprisingly still standing. Their thatched roofs are gray with age. Large holes abound, exposing the wood frames built from tree branches. Many of the buildings have stone foundations about two feet high which I find strangely interesting. The ancient Hawaiian building techniques were not so different from the ones western civilization uses today.
Bella and I spend the afternoon exploring each of the structures. Each time she finds an artifact she squeals in excitement, oohing and aahing over each new discovery. She has taken a small notebook and pencil from her back pants pocket and meticulously draws a representation of many of the items, noting where they were found and what its purpose was. I look at some of her renderings. She is pretty good, I note. Not as good as me though and I offer to draw the rest of her pictures while she takes notes instead.
"You never told me you can draw?"
"Yeah, I'm pretty good at it actually. I always loved art in school. It was one of two 'fun' subjects I allowed myself. The rest of my subjects were the mandatory English and then maths and the sciences."
"What was the other one?" Bella hands me her note book and pencil as well as a small plastic pencil sharpener. She takes another notebook and pencil from her other pants pocket making me chuckle. She has come prepared.
"One what?"
"Fun subject?"
"Oh, music."
"What type of music?" She asks curiously as we walk toward a dwelling that is set apart from the others. It is larger and seems to be in a better state of repair, having been shielded somewhat from the elements by the semi circle of buildings. There are openings which represent windows and a set of stone steps leading to a doorway.
"Piano and guitar. I've played both instruments since I was a child. Mom taught me to play the piano when I was about five years old. I picked up the guitar when I was about twelve, I think."
"You must miss it?" she condoles.
"Yeah, I do. I miss the piano the most. I have a gorgeous baby grand piano in my living room in Honolulu. She's beautiful," I reminisce, "black and glossy with white, white keys. She's tuned to within an inch of her life."
"Her?" Bella quirks a brow of inquiry.
I blush. "Um yeah."
"What's her name?" Bella asks with amusement.
"Ahm … Clara."
"You named your piano, Clara?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Why, Clara?"
"Hmmm," Bella confirms. She is peering into the partly open doorway of the large hut. It is dark inside being in the shade of the late afternoon sun. I pull the flashlight from the clip attached to one of my belt loops and hand it to her.
"Clara Pringle was the name of my piano teacher. After Mom taught me all that she knew, she said I needed to be tutored by somebody more accomplished than her. Clara was my teacher for eight years from the time I was eight years old. She died the night of my first solo piano recital. It was a concert featuring Hawaii's most talented junior musicians at the Waikiki Shell. The Shell seats 2,400 people and was being televised on national television. I was so nervous at playing in front of so many people," I recalled, "and that nervousness made me … testy, shall we say."
Bella chuckled. "Did she see you play that night?"
"Yes. After she gave me a verbal boxing followed by a few more words of encouragement, I walked on stage in my black tuxedo and I played Mozart's Piano Concerto No. 21 in C major."
"Wow. Isn't that an orchestral piece?"
"You know Mozart?" I ask her. I did not imagine Bella as being a lover of classical music.
"Well, not personally," she responds sarcastically, "but my grandmother likes to listen to his music. She has a number of piano CDs."
"Um, Sorry." I unintentionally implied she is musically inferior."
"That's okay. So what happened to Mrs Pringle?"
"She had a heart attack in her bed and died. She was 84 years old. Two days later, I was invited to attend Juilliard. I turned them down."
She stares at me for a long moment. "You were invited at 16 to attend Juilliard, the premiere music academy of the modern world, and you turned them down?" Bella says with astonishment.
"Ahm yeah. I loved music but I also loved the navy. I'd always wanted to join the navy every since I was a toddler and I got my first wooden boat. I struggled with the decision. I went for a visit, sat in on some classes and even played with their orchestra, but in the end, I chose the navy."
"Do you … ever regret your decision?" Bella asks me softly.
"Sometimes, but then I think about being at sea and I can't imagine doing anything else."
"Is that what you meant that day you said you understood about doing one thing, but wanting something else."
"When you talked about being an anthropologist versus a librarian?" I asked for clarification. She nodded. "Yes, I suppose it was. Turning down Juilliard wasn't as easy as I made it seem." I hold my arms out in front of me trying to see the difference in length. "Do you think I'll have trouble playing the piano now?" I say sadly.
"I don't know, Edward," she says as she hugs me around the waist in a comforting gesture. "What does Carlisle say?"
I shrug. "I don't know. I haven't asked him."
She looks up at me. "Don't you think you should?" I shrug again. "I think you should ask your dad. Try not to dwell on it, Edward. You won't know your range of movement until you play again and it might improve with practice," she remarks wisely. "Ask your Dad."
"I will. Okay, now what say we explore this last hut before we call it a night? It'll be dark soon." She nods. "Lead the way," I say turning on the flashlight in her hand.
Bella pushes open the door to the hut and shines the beam of the flashlight around. There are the same remnants of habitation we have seen in the other huts, but this time there is more. A lot more.
"What the … ?" Bella says in an shocked voice.
"Christ. What is that?" I say as I arc the beam of the flashlight over the foreign structure hanging from the ceiling.
"That is an abandoned bee hive – a huge one!" Bella says excitedly.
"God it smells," I say disgustedly as I pinch my nostrils closed with my hand. I almost hit myself in the head with the flashlight. Bella takes it from me and walks closer to the structure. She is able to reach up and touch the comb without stretching, that's how big it is. Bending down, she picks up a sharp rock and breaks a piece of the comb away inspecting it closely in the artificial light.
"Look at this, Edward?" she says excitedly. "The comb still feels waxy, which means it hasn't been infiltrated by vermin."
"Yeah, so?"
Bella grimaces. "For such an intelligent man, you really are dense sometimes, Edward," she yells at me impatiently.
"Hey!"
"Well shit, Edward, we can melt the comb down for the wax, you idiot. We can make candles!"
My eyes widen as I realize what she is saying. We'd have a light source that wouldn't rely on batteries. "How will we get it home from here? It's a 4 hour journey, Bella. There's too much of it to carry," I say reasonably.
"We can make a travois and drag it home."
I quirk a brow of skepticism. "A travois? I don't know Bella." I hate to disappoint her, but neither Jasper or I was in any condition to drag what looked like 100 pounds of bee comb back to camp, and I say as much.
"I'll drag it, Edward," she offers rashly.
"Bella, you can't ..."
"Don't tell me what I can and can't do, Edward Cullen! I'm not leaving here without that comb. How either get on board and help me build a sturdy travois, or do I have to call on your mother and brother?" she says with her arms crossed over her chest.
I scowl. She lifts her chin determinedly, then stomps out of the hut. I follow her with my eyes as she runs back to our tent camp calling eagerly for the others.
"DON'T RUN," I yell after her.
She shows me the finger, but slows down to a jog.
"Her grandmother must think she's a saint," I mumble to myself as I stalk after her. Bad language and rude gestures – not behavior I imagine is acceptable from a princess.
"What is all this racket?" demands Mom as she arrives at the tent camp. She has been down to the beach checking the fishing nets. She has four good sized fish in her hands for our dinner. Alice and Jasper arrive from the direction of the jungle. Alice is pulling down her t-shirt as she runs. I can see her yellow bikini top hanging out of Jasper's pant pocket. I can only imagine what those two had been up to.
"Look! Look!" Bella exclaims waving the comb around in the air. "We found an abandoned hive and the comb is still intact."
"Oh," breath Mom and Alice with instant clarity. Even Jasper sees the significance immediately.
"How much is there?" Mom asks as she takes the comb from Bella and feels it. She rubs the transfer wax between her fingers.
"At least 100 pounds," I say. "Bella wants to take it home to make candles." I roll my eyes at Jasper thinking that he at least will realize the stupidity of her suggestion.
"Great idea," he says.
Wait! What?
"We'll build something so we can drag it," he suggests. Bella's face is wide with a huge grin. She turns to me and pokes her tongue out. 'So there,' her gesture says, making me scowl again.
"Oh please, Edward," Bella cajoles, changing tactics. "We might not get another opportunity like this for a long while. I can't make proper candles from only solid coconut oil," she implores. "It's too soft and it melts at the first hint of flame."
"You've been trying to make candles?" Mom asks.
"Yes, but I can't stop them from melting into a puddle when I light the wick, and the oil sometimes ignites," she says disheartened."
Mom hugs Bella tightly. "Oh, Bella, what would we do without you?" she says rhetorically, kissing Bella on the forehead. "Alright everyone, it's getting late. Let's get the fire lit and dinner cooking. We can talk about it some more as we eat." Mom leads Bella to the camp fire and Alice follows leaving me fuming at Jasper.
"Are you nuts?" I clench out at him.
"Huh?"
"How are we gonna drag 100 pounds of smelly comb back to camp over the uneven terrain we followed to get here, huh? Tell me?"
Jasper sighs with exasperation. "The same way we've done everything else on this island, Edward! Slowly, carefully and with determination. I agree with Bella. Leaving comb behind that's in pristine condition like this apparently is, is not an option. By the time we come back, wax moths or other vermin will have destroyed the comb, making it useless. We need to take it with us now."
I stalk away from my brother, fuming that he has sided against me. I join the girls and help with dinner preparations. I fill a small pot of water from the creek, resting it on a stone at the side of the brightly burning campfire. Mom and Bella are scaling the fish while Alice wraps some sweet potatoes in wet banana leaves to roast in the fire. I take the plastic container of sliced moringa beans from Bella's pack. We will have a tasty and filling meal for our dinner.
The discussion over the pros and cons of dragging the comb home continues over dinner and well into the evening. It is four against one (me being the one) by the time we retire to the tent for the night. The rest of our evenings discussion centered on what else we've found at the fishing village. Jasper is fascinated with the ancients' fishing implements and asks Bella if he can take some of them back to camp to study. He thinks he might be able to replicate the fish hooks and some of the other tools.
…
I cuddle Bella from behind and she snuggles back against me under the blankets. She gently takes my broken arm and drapes it over her waist. "I'm sorry, Edward," she whispers. "I know you disagree with my decision, but I believe in what I'm doing."
"Shssh, I know," I say, and I did.
…
"Jasper! Jasper! I hear Alice hissing hours later. It is still dark out, but the glow of the cooling fire throws some light into the tent. Jasper is dead-to-the-world and snoring loudly, happily oblivious to his wife's frantic hissing and shaking of his shoulders.
"What is it, Alice?" I whisper. "You'll wake everyone up."
"Good! I hear something," she hisses at me. "I hear something or someone walking about out there."
"It's probably an animal," I tell her dismissively. "Go back to sleep. It'll be daybreak soon (I check the green glow of my watch) and we have a long, busy and heavy day ahead of us," I remind her.
"It doesn't sound like the steps of any animal I've seen on this island," she says insistently. "Go and check," she orders me.
"No!"
"Please, Edward," she pleads. "Please!"
I roll my eyes. God help me from women who are scared of things that go bump in the night. I gently extricate myself from Bella and roll to my knees. Crawling to the tent opening, I look out, but I can't see anything.
"There's nothing out there," I tell her. I'm crawling back to my bed when I hear a clacking sound from somewhere outside. It repeats a few times, like footsteps over uneven stones.
"Edward! Did you hear that? Tell me you heard that?" Alice whispers frantically.
"Yes, I heard it. I still say it's an animal. Go back to sleep, Alice, I'm begging you," I say wearily as I lie down beside Bella again and pull the blanket over me.
"You're such an ass!" Alice hisses at me as she slumps onto her own mattress hiding behind her sleeping husband.
"Yeah, yeah," I mumble as I fall back to sleep.
…
"What do you think it is?" I hear Bella whisper.
"I don't know, but it's been going on for hours and it's freaking me out. Edward told me to go back to sleep. He wouldn't even look properly," Alice whines, ratting me out to my girlfriend.
"What did Jasper say it was?" Mom's voice whispers as I open bleary eyes. Three jean-clad rumps wave at me from the door. I blink and rub my eyeballs. Yep, Mom and the girls are on their hands and knees poking their heads outside.
"Nothing! I couldn't wake him."
"He always did sleep like the dead," Mom remarks without surprise.
"I can't see anything," says Bella.
"But you can hear it, right? I'm not imagining things?" says Alice.
"Yes, I hear it."
"So do I," agrees Mom.
"What do you think it is?" Bella says.
"An animal, maybe," suggests Mom, the voice of reason and farm-girl extraordinaire. Thank god for some female sense.
"Maybe it's a ghost?" gasps Alice with all seriousness.
"What!" Mom and Bella whisper incredulously.
"Well, we are in a ghost town, aren't we? This place just oozes creepiness," she says. Her dainty rump shudders with emotion. "Maybe something horrible happened here, and the ghosts of the past are haunting the village. Maybe … maybe," she says, desperately reaching, "they don't like us being here and they're trying to scare us away!"
Mom and Bella turn their heads to stare at Alice, testing her sanity.
"Oh, Alice, there's no such thing as ghosts!" Mom retorts, "You're letting your imagination get away from you." Mom looks at Bella. "How much of that tea did you give her anyway?"
Bella shrugs. "Just the normal dose."
"I am not hallucinating!" she screeches at them.
Click, clack. Click, clack. Click, clack. Click, clack.
"Shit, it's coming closer!" shrieks Alice as she wiggles backwards into the tent.
If the three of them weren't so ridiculous, I'd be laughing my ass off right about now. I wish Jasper was awake to witness the spectacle the three of them made. We'd never let them live it down!
"I'm going out there," declares Mom. "Who's coming with me?"
What! That definitely wakes me up.
"I will," Bella says with a slight squeak of fear in her voice.
"You're not leaving me here alone," Alice whines.
"Well, come on then," Mom orders, reaching back and yanking Alice by the arm to the door. "Look, the sun's coming up, we should be able to see what it is," she says to Alice.
I look out into the open village. Yep, the sun is definitely casting its rays from the east. Second by second, the darkness of night is chased away. I roll my shoulders and sit up, as the women crawl stealthily out of the tent. Sleep is apparently off the agenda with the three of them acting like amateur ghost-busters. I kick jasper in the leg with my bare toes as I prepare to head out after them.
"Wake up!" I hiss at him.
"Wha ..." he moans incoherently.
"Wake up! Your wife has Mom and Bella chasing after ghosts, for fucks sake. Now get up!"
"Ghosts!"
"Yes."
"It's probably an animal," he mumbles dismissively. He rolls over, intent on going back to sleep. Oh no he fucking doesn't!
"That's exactly what I told Alice at 3 am this morning!" I snap at him. "But she's apparently been awake all night imagining all sorts of strange happenings. Now she's convinced we're camping in a ghost town and the three of them have gone looking for … whatever the fuck they think it is," I growl, waving my arms around.
"The three of them?"
"Alice, Bella and Mom." I snarl impatiently. "Will you get the fuck up already? We need to find them before they get themselves into trouble." On that note, I race out of the tent, barefoot and sleep ruffled, peering into the dim morning light looking for our three hunting females. Jasper joins me outside. He stretches and yawns widely, scratching his stomach through his t-shirt with swollen fingers.
"Oh fuck!" he yelps. He scowls ferociously as he tries to shake the pain away.
"Forget did you?" I snigger.
He glares at me and folds his wrapped hands against his stomach protectively. "Where are they?"
"How the fuck should I know?" I hiss at him. "They took off while I was trying to get you out of bed you fucking skunk. You sleep like the fucking dead, do ya know that?"
"Don't be an asshole, Edward. You …"
"Oh my god, they're charging us!" squeals Alice from the beach.
Jazz and I look at each other and take off in the direction of Alices' strident voice. She is screaming incoherently. I can hear Bella shushing her. Jasper and I race to the beach terrified that Mom and the girls are in serious trouble. We are nearly there, hobbling over the uneven stones and rocks strewn about, when Alice runs screaming into the village like the high-strung filly she really is. She bolts straight past us, not giving us a single thought. We turn our heads to stare after her while still running in the direction of the beach. We watch her with stunned relief as she dives into the tent and whips the sides closed.
"Fucking hell! What now?" groans Jasper.
Bella and Mom are squealing as we make our way up the black sand beach. I can see their outlines as they sprint down the sand being chased by a herd of …
"Fuck me!" I say.
"Those are goats! Where the hell did goats come from?" Jasper yells.
"I don't fricking know, but they're feral and not very happy by all accounts. You get Mom and I'll get Bella," I say to him.
"How!" Jasper asks as he holds up his bandaged hands.
"I don't know, man. Hook your arm through hers or something. Just get her off the fricking beach until we figure out what to do about the damned goats!"
Jasper sprints toward Mom and I sprint towards Bella. The herd of goats with their lethal horns are gaining on them. One of them bends its head down in a classic 'charge' stance and gallops down the sand. The rest of the herd follows. The one charging is apparently the alpha of the gang. They have clearly adapted to life on an island, because the soft sandy surface doesn't slow them at all.
"RUN!" I scream at Mom and Bella.
"We are!" they scream back.
"RUN FASTER!"
"We are!"
Bella says something to Mom and they break away from our direction to head toward the water. They hit the shallows of the lagoon and run through the waves, their legs kicking out behind them. They stop when they are thigh deep and panting to regain their breath. The goats halt at the waters edge bleating at Mom and Bella aggressively.
Jasper and I skid to a stop on the sand watching the pacing, bleating goats warily.
"What do we do now?" I ask him. Jasper's the expert on wild animal behavior.
"I say we wait a few minutes. They'll probably get bored and wander away shortly. Goats like to eat more than anything else in the world, but there's not much in the way of food they'd eat on this beach."
The idea of being held at bay by a herd of goats is anathema to me, but I don't know what else we can do. If we chase after them and they turn on us, we'd be in deeper shit than we are now seeing as both of us are walking wounded.
I shrug and prepare to wait. Mom and Bella are edging their way slowly through the water adjacent to the beach, putting distance between them and the psychotic goats. "Look," I say to Jasper pointing at them.
"I see them. That's it, keep moving," he whispers encouragingly even though they can't possibly hear him. When they are fifty yards further away and near a large outcropping of rocks that is half in, and half out of the water, they duck behind them and wade their way onto the beach.
"Come on," I say edging backwards up the beach. I'm not prepared to turn my back on the goats, especially the alpha male. He has turned away from the lagoon and is staring at us with wild eyes of fury, stamping his feet agitatedly. I'd heard goats could be bad tempered, but this guy takes the cake.
Having reached the relative safety of the fishing village, we intercept Mom and Bella as they run from further up the beach.
"ARE YOU OKAY?" Jazz and I yell at them simultaneously.
"Yes," they pant. They are bent over at the waist resting their hands on their knees as they try to catch their breath. I take Bella into my arms, squeezing the meager breath from her lungs as Jasper embraces Mom.
"Good."
I release Bella to pace in front of them and tug my hair at its roots. A sound emits from my chest that I think is half relieved laughter and half terrified sobbing. Jasper starts pacing in the opposite direction. Each time we pass we have a silent conversation with our eyes. We look like two gunslingers pacing off for a shoot out. We turn and select our targets. It isn't each other.
"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?"
Jasper chimes in with, "ARE YOU ALL NUTS?"
I hiss at them, "WHAT POSSESSED YOU TO RUN AFTER WILD FUCKING GOATS?"
From Jasper, "YOU COULD HAVE BEEN SERIOUSLY INJURED!"
"DID YOU NOT SEE THEIR FUCKING BIG HORNS?"
Jasper again with, "ARE YOU ALL FUCKING NUTS?"
Each time we yell at Mom and Bella, their faces get more mutinous. Their eyes narrow; their mouths thin; their faces flush and if looks could kill, we'd both be dead.
"THAT'S ENOUGH!" yells Mom. We both fall reluctantly silent. Mom steps toward us invading our personal space. She looks up and pokes us both in the chest with the index finger of each hand.
"Have. You. Both. Finished?" she growls at us. Each word is punctuated with a vicious poke.
Ow! We swallow and nod. "Yes, ma'am."
"For your fucking information my children (oh oh) we weren't chasing fucking goats as you so eloquently screamed at us. We were following tracks in the sand. We didn't know they belonged to fucking goats as you put it, until they came charging down the beach at us."
Oh.
"Don't. You. EVER. Speak. To. Me. That. Way. Again." More vicious pokes. "Do I make myself perfectly clear?" she hisses at us.
She has her fight face on.
I gulp and my eyes widen. I see Jasper nod and take a tentative step back.
Mom breathes out and straightens her clothes. "Good!" she snaps sharply. "I won't tell your father about this, but if there is ever a repeat, you won't be able to sit down for a week. You're not too old to put over my knee, do you understand?"
"Yes, Mom," I say, ashamed. I glance at Bella. She is looking at me like I am the worst son of a bitch under the sun. I don't know how I will face her later on.
"Yes, ma'am," agrees Jasper meekly.
"Mom, I-I'm sorry," I say. "I didn't mean to disrespect you, but … I almost had a heart attack when I saw you being chased by wild goats. I-I would never forgive myself if I-I let something happen to you on my watch," I tell her honestly.
"I understand, son, but I'm not one of your subordinates in the navy. You can't speak to me that way and believe that I will put up with it. You must learn to moderate your words, okay?" I nod and step forward to hug her. She embraces me and pats my shoulder in forgiveness.
"I'm sorry too, Mom," Jasper says as I step away from Mom. I leave them to talk as I tentatively walk toward Bella who is standing alone with her hands crossed over her chest. Her stance is standoffish and uninviting. Her eyes berate me as I stop in front of her.
"I'm sorry, Bella … for yelling at you like that. Are … are we okay?"
She quirks a brow. "Probably, Edward … actually, I-I don't know. I'm pissed at you. I agree with your mother. You don't get to speak to me that way. I put up with shit like that from Mike Newton – I won't go through that again. It's not right."
"I know."
"Don't do it again."
I swallow down the lump in my throat. "Yes." I reach out to touch her, but she side steps me. My hand drops aimlessly by my side. Shit!
Mom claps her hands and rubs them together enthusiastically, calling our attention.
"So, let's catch us a goat, shall we?" she announces, perfectly serious.
Huh? Jasper and I are slack jawed.
"Preferably a nanny-goat – one with a kid or two."
"Wha ..." mumbles Jasper. He shakes his head, trying to clear the fog. His brain is finding it hard to compute that Mom wants to chase after goats, after being chased by goats.
Is she for real?
"Alice, come out here!" Mom yells. She waits for Alice to timidly creep across the rough ground before launching into her plan for the morning. Jasper places his arm around her shoulder, hugging his tiny wife to his side.
"Right, first we medicate (she points at Jasper and Alice) and then we eat breakfast. After that, we'll cut the bee comb from the roof of the hut and load it onto the travois we're going to make. We can use the tent and some sturdy branches. Alice, Bella and I will alternate dragging the load home." The girls nod agreeably. "You boys can carry the extra packs. Once that's done, we're going to look for a goat. There are some smaller hoof tracks along the beach. I'm pretty sure that means there are younger goats, perhaps with their mother. I want the mother, understand?"
Jasper and I look at each other. He quirks a brow and throws me a look that says, "You're on your own with this one".
"Um, Mom?"
"Yes, Edward?"
"Mom, are you sure about this – about the goat I mean? We have no idea where they are. Do you really want to get charged again?"
"We can follow the tracks on the sand and we can take some bait to attract them. We still have some moringa beans left from last night – we can use them. We can spend a few minutes collecting some appetizing vegetation to lure them in. If we can attract the mother, the babies might follow."
"How are we going to catch it? Alice says quietly. She is wary of being too close to the goats.
"If I can get close enough, I'm going to lasso it," Mom states matter-of-factly. "I was pretty good at it in my younger days," she adds proudly.
Bella's eyes widen and I have to hold back a splutter of negativity.
Fucking hell. Dad's gonna kill us!
"Jasper, I'm going to need a rope. Now let's get moving. The sun's up and I think we should head back home earlier than we planned if we can."
Uh, yeah! With 100 pounds of bee comb and possibly a goat or two tethered to us, it would take us hours longer to reach home. I shrug my shoulders at Jasper's inquiring gaze and move reluctantly to obey my mothers bidding.
…
"Jasper," I hear Bella say softly, "some of these splinter wounds are infected." She has unbound his hands to clean the wounds. I can see from my place a few feet away, that some of the punctures are swollen, and oozing blood and pus.
Bella dips a sterile cloth into the pan of water she'd heated and begins to clean Jasper's hands. He hisses and winces in pain.
"Sorry."
"It's okay, darlin', I'm the one who should be apologizing to you," he says. "I am sorry," he says sincerely.
"I know." Bella takes a small squirt bottle of betadine from her first aid kit and unscrews the cap. "This might hurt," she warns as she squirts the brown, iodine-based antiseptic over the festering wounds.
Jasper draws in a hiss of breath and jerks his hands away. "Hold still, Jasper!" she barks at him. "I know it hurts, but it'll hurt a lot worse if you get gangrene." I've seen men with gangrenous wounds before – it's not a pretty sight. Most of them lost chunks of flesh, leaving behind huge holes where once there was sculpted muscle, or they lost fingers and toes.
Bella applies some absorbent pads to the punctures and wraps Jasper's hands in clean bandages. She hands him two painkillers and an antibiotic pill, before slipping a thermometer into his mouth. "You have a mild fever," she reports. "I want you to rest as much as possible this morning (he opens his mouth to object, but closes it again when Bella shoots him her death glare). I also want you to drink plenty of water. You can argue about it when we get home, okay?"
"Yes, ma'am," he says with a crooked grin.
"Alice, here's your tea," Bella says as she closes up her kit and packs it away in her backpack."
…
An hour later we have eaten breakfast and taken down the sail tent. We use the branches that supported the structure to make a travois, tying the whole lot securely together with rope. We wrap the sail over and under the travois to make a bed for the bee comb and whatever else we might need to drag home. I test its strength. It seems sturdy enough.
Bella takes the large fishing knife Jasper gingerly hands her, and heads with Mom and Alice to the largest hut to start breaking down the comb. I roll my eyes and follow them dragging the travois behind me. Alice holds the flashlight as Mom and Bella detour to the open canoe shed for a log stump to stand on. They roll it on its side to the hut and I push it up the stone stairs using my foot for leverage.
Alice is staring at the huge mass hanging from the ceiling. The glow of the flashlight is trained on the thousands of tiny hexagonal cells that would, with any luck, produce enough pure beeswax for many, many candles. It better be fucking worth it!
"That's the biggest bee hive I've ever seen," she says. She looks up with awe as she walks around it and under it, ignoring where her feet are on the debris strewn floor.
"Just be careful, Alice," I warn her as I position the log on the outside of the hanging comb. "There's shit all over the floor and some of the comb might be loose. That ceiling doesn't look too secure to me, which may be why the bees abandoned the hive in the first place – if they thought it might collapse. The weight of that hive full of honey and bees must have been tremendous."
Bella goes to step onto the log with the knife in her hand and I pull her back. She looks at me inquiringly. "No, Bella. I'll cut the comb and you girls can hold it and lift it down."
"But your arm?" she protests.
I growl low in my chest so she won't hear it. "My arm's fine." I hold my hand out for the knife. She hesitates for a moment, then hands it to me by the handle. I slip the knife into my belt loops and step onto the log. Reaching up, I feel along the top seam of the comb. It is barely attached to the roof. A few good slashes at the thatching will have it coming down.
"Alice, stand behind me and shine the flashlight into the rafters so I can see where I'm cutting. Mom, Bella, are you ready?" They each stand one side of the wide edge of the comb and take hold of it with both hands.
"Ready," they say. I can see them tensing themselves.
"Okay, when it comes loose, a heavy load is going to settle into your hands. You have to be prepared for the weight, okay?
"Yes," the reply in unison. I look toward the door which has darkened as Jasper stands in the opening. "Move inside will you Jazz, I need the light." He does as I ask, but instead of stepping to the side out of the way, he stands behind Mom prepared to help her should she need it. I wish I could do the same for Bella.
Fuck this shit!
"Here goes," I warn them as I reach up with the knife and slash at the ancient thatch. It rips easily as though the thatch is the highest quality silk and the knife is a Japanese sword. "Here it comes!" I yell as the first piece of comb begins to fall.
"We've got it!" the girls sing. They laugh as they carefully carry their treasure over to the travois and lay it down.
It takes us nearly an hour to remove all of the comb. Most of it is easily removed, but some of the heavier pieces are attached to the rafters rather than the thatch and they are harder to shift. A piece breaks away at one point and falls onto Bella, hitting her right shoulder. She staggers and falls to the ground.
"Bella!" I scream as I leap off the log.
"I'm okay," she says as Jasper and I pull her to her feet. She hisses in discomfort and is rubbing both her shoulder and her knee.
"Let me see," I tell her.
"It's fine," she says, brushing away my concern.
"Let. Me. See." I growl letting her hear it this time. She glowers at me, but relents. I probe her shoulder carefully. She winces in pain, but I don't think the collar bone is fractured. "What's wrong with your knee?"
"I don't know; it hit something hard when I went down."
I reach out to Alice for the flashlight and she hands it to me. Shining it over the floor, I brush away the centuries of debris until I find the culprit for her injury. "Well, I'll be ..." I say.
"What? What did you find?" Bella demands.
"Well, Bella, your theory that the Polynesians might have traded with explorers is spot on," I remark, as I hold up a dull gold plate. It is at least 200 years old, if not older. Jasper carefully takes the plate from me between the sides of his hands. Bella looks disappointed that she didn't take if from me first.
"Looks Spanish to me," he comments, "maybe French."
"Jasper's a history buff," I whisper, to ease her glum mood.
"There might be more of it. We should check it out after we get the rest of the comb," he suggests.
"Alice, will you take Bella's place while we collect the last few pieces of comb?" She steps forward eagerly and I hand the flashlight to Bella. We quickly collect the rest of the comb, which is smaller as it's on the outside edge of the hive. Jasper has abandoned his protective post to roam around the floor looking for more treasure. I notice he finds a few more pieces, which he studies carefully before laying them onto the travois.
"Okay, that's it," I say with relief as I step off the log and rub my shoulder. "One hundred pounds, give or take, of bee comb." Bella grins and dances around on her toes. She winces slightly as her knee objects. My mouth tightens. I want to demand that she leave the comb here when we go home, but I know she will not. She'd have to have broken bones to be convinced to leave it behind.
She leans down to pick up the travois handles to pull our bounty from the hut. I shake my head at her stubbornness. "You take the left side and I'll take the right?" I offer. She accepts and together we maneuver our load out of the hut and down the stone steps. It is fucking heavy and I don't see how the girls will be able to drag this home, not when it weighs as much as they do. I figure, Bella and I may be able to drag it home together if she insists of taking it with us.
"How are we going for time?" Mom says as we squint into the sunlight. I check the dial of my watch.
"It's just after 10 am now. I want us gone by noon."
"Right, let's go lasso a goat," Mom says with a grin. My jaw aches as I grind my teeth together. I look around for Jasper's support but he is still inside the hut looking for more treasure. I would get no more help from him.
"Mom, are you serious about this goat business?" I try to dissuade her one last time.
"Yes, Edward, I'm dead serious." Her face is set in a determined mien.
I sigh and blow out a deep breath. "Mom, I'll make you a bargain." She looks at me with interest. "We try to capture a nanny-goat until 11.30. If we get one, that gives us time to halter the beast and calm it down for the hike home. If we don't get one, that gives us time to finish packing up before we head out. With the extra load, Mom, we'll be lucky to make it back to camp by dusk tonight."
Mom considers for a moment before holding out her hand to shake on it. "Agreed, Edward. Until 11.30, either way." We shake. "Thank you, son."
I nod reluctantly, then head into the jungle for some foliage appetizing to a fucking goat! When I return ten minutes later, Mom has fashioned a lasso using Jasper's rope and is practicing on the girls who are jogging about so she has a moving target. She manages to lasso them two times out of every three. We might just have a chance if we could actually find the fucking goats!
"Let's go!" I yell, my patience almost at an end.
…
After an hour of stealthy creeping through the jungle and following what we believe are the goat tracks from earlier, we come upon Mom's coveted nanny-goat. She looks young, maybe a year or two old and she has two brown and white kids. She is gray and white in color with two short horns growing out of her head. Her udders are full of milk. She is at the edge of the jungle where it joins the beach, munching unsuspectingly on purslane and sea grapes while her kids suckle voraciously from her teats. I don't see the rest of the herd.
"There she is!" Mom whispers excitedly, "and look, there are her babies. I just knew there were young goats!" She creeps forward, halting suddenly when the mother lifts her head to look around. She may have heard something, but it doesn't stop her from chewing.
"God damned fucking garbage disposals," I mumble.
"Shhssh," Mom hisses at me. "Give the girls the foliage. You and Jasper go down to the beach and head her off if she makes a run for it," Mom orders.
"Um, Mom, Jasper isn't gonna be much help," I remind her. She looks surprised for a moment that she has forgotten his injuries, then shrugs. "Don't try to catch it or anything like that, just act like a cattle dog or something," she says.
'Just act like a cattle dog,' I parrot silently. Shit!
"C'mon, Jazz," I say as I grab his arm in disgust. We jog down to the beach and hide behind some rocks.
"Is your tail waggin' yet?" Jazz chortles.
"Fuck you, Jasper."
I can't see anything from our hiding spot, but I can hear Alice and Bella crooning to the goat. Alice starts singing in her lilting voice. "What the fuck is she doing?" I ask her husband.
"It's Brahms Lullaby," he says with a shrug.
"I know what it fucking is you dipshit! Why is she singing to the fucking goat?" I demand shrilly.
My patience has all but deserted me. The stress these three precious females have caused me since the early hours of this morning has taken its toll on my sanity. Service on board a submarine is a cake-walk compared to this shit! I squeeze the bridge of my nose, trying to relieve the pressure of the migraine headache I can feel stabbing me in the back of my right eye.
"Calm the fuck down, Edward, before you have a stroke and we need to drag you home on the travois!" Jasper growls at me.
I just glare at him and rub at my eyes. "Sorry," I mumble. That seems to be all I'm saying today and it isn't even lunchtime.
"You've gotta let it go, man," Jasper advises sagely. "They're gonna do what they want to do whether we like it or not. As long as it's not life threatening behavior, I say let them have at it. Don't forget we did the very same thing when we went after the chickens and the pigs."
"Yeah, I know," I say grudgingly. "We set a bad example and a precedent."
"Yep, we did, but at least their choice of grocery items is a mound of bee comb and goats. If they want candles and milk, let them have it if they can."
I open my mouth to respond, when I hear Mom make a rodeo war-cry.
"Yee-hah!" she shrieks, as first the nanny-goat and then Mom thunders out of the jungle and down the beach.
Jazz and I stand up and look over the top of the rocks we are hiding behind. If the sight of my 57 year old mother preparing to lasso a goat wasn't so ludicrous, I might howl with laughter. The goat is running in a zig-zag pattern as it tries to escape the mad woman swinging a lasso over her head.
"Yee-hah!" Mom yells as she lets the lasso fly. It hits the goat in the head, but slips away allowing the goat to flee.
Mom reels the rope in as she runs full pelt across the sand. The fine black grains fly out behind her heels.
"Head her off boys!" she screams to us as she swings the lasso again.
We run from behind the rocks, racing toward the goat. Jasper stomps around, waving his bandaged hands like a mummified lunatic as he herds the neighing she-devil back toward Mom.
Bella and Alice come flying down the beach sprinting after the two kids chasing after their mother. They are sure-footed and bleating incessantly as they gallop over the sand. The nanny-goat wheels around at the cries of her babies. She halts on the sand, her chest heaving as she neighs a cry of warning.
"Yee-hah!" Mom cries again. The rope lasso she is twirling over her head makes heavy whooshing sounds as it cuts through the air. I watch, as almost in slow motion, she lets fly with the lasso and it drops right over the goats head.
"Yes!" screams Mom as she pulls the rope tight and digs her heels into the sand.
"Whoo hoo!" cry Bella and Alice ecstatically as they dance triumphantly on the sand.
"Celebrate later, get the kids!" Mom barks at the girls.
They immediately wheel around and take off after the kids, charging past us like greased lightning. The girls box them in at the outcropping of rocks we hid behind. They are beginning to tire, both the girls and the kids, and I am ready to call a halt to the exercise. We have the mother – let that be enough.
"Come on, babies, come to Aunty Bella and Aunty Alice," Bella croons as they creep toward the baby goats.
"On the count of three," says Alice. "One … two … three … Go!" Bella and Alice catapult forward, skidding along the sand in a belly flop that must sting like hell on their exposed skin. They nail their prey like blood-thirsty predators.
"That had to hurt," remarks Jasper.
"Yep."
"We got them! We got them!"
"Good work, girls!" congratulates Mom. She is grinning widely, when she is suddenly yanked off her feet as the she-devil makes a run for freedom, right down the center of the black sand beach.
"Mom!" Jazz and I yell in horror as we run after her.
"Get back here, Edward!" Bella screams at me, "if you fall and break your arm again, I'll bloody throttle you," she threatens. I ignore her of course and continue to race after Mom who is body surfing along the sand.
"Let go of the fricking rope!" orders Jasper.
"Noooo!" Mom's muffled yell comes back.
"Mom, let go of the stinking rope for Christs sake!" I beg her.
"NO! Edddwaaardddd, stop the goat!" she cries instead, as her body twists and turns along the sand.
"Oh, for the love of god," I huff as I pump my arms and legs toward Mom and the goat. I bend down toward her flailing body, preparing to yank the rope away, but she has twisted the cord around her hand.
Oh, fucking hell!
"GET the FUCKING GOAT, Edward!" she snarls at me. My eyes widen – I have not heard my mother swear like this since the lava tube incident – but I reluctantly do as she says. "B-be c-careful," she hisses as she thumps along the sand, "Your a-arm ..."
Fuck my arm! I am more concerned with saving my mother for all of our sakes, but especially for my father. If she won't let go of the rope, then I would stop the fucking goat!
I gain on the goat as it tires. It leaps over a large rock and my heart skips a beat. Oh God, if Mom hits that rock with her head or her chest, she'll be killed! I make a split second decision, ignoring the possible consequences as I reach down with my hand to grab the waving rope. I make contact, close my hand around the fibers and pull up sharply with all of my strength. Both Mom and the goat come to a sudden stop as I fall backwards onto my rump.
Game over.
Jasper and the girls arrive at the scene, Jazz running up to Mom. He rolls her body over with his bandaged hands. I see an expression of horror on his face.
"Mom. Mom. Momma! Are you okay, Momma?" He shakes her shoulders with his hands. "Momma!"
She coughs and splutters. "I-I'm (cough) okay (cough), Jasper," she gasps.
I scramble to my feet and run to their side, unwinding the rope from around Mom's hand and wrist. There are nasty rope burns, but I think she'll be okay - I haven't broken her arm.
"Don't let go, Ed," she implores me, "not after everything I went through."
I sigh. "I won't Mom. Can you stand?"
She coughs again. "Yes, I think so." Jasper hooks his forearms under Mom's armpits from behind and heaves her to her feet. She is unsteady, but remains standing.
"Oh, Esme," cries Bella as she arrives clutching a kid in her arms. It is bleating for its mother. "Are you okay?" Alice arrives a second later.
"Yes, sweetheart, I'll be fine. We did well didn't we?" she asks them.
Alice and Bella snort with laughter. "Yes we did!" they sing their own praises.
I pull the nanny-goat toward me. "I think we should head back to the village. I also think we should consider staying another night," I suggest.
"Why?" asks Mom as she shakes the sand from her hair with a quivering hand.
"The only one of us not injured here, is Alice." We all look at her appraisingly. "She's 5 foot 2 inches tall and weighs 95 pounds," I emphasize unnecessarily. "We have 100 pounds of bee comb to drag home and three goats, one of which is proving difficult, and both you and Bella are newly injured. Not to mention the utter exhaustion of all of us."
"Your father will go mad with worry if we don't return home tonight, Edward," Mom says as she chews on her lip in a mannerism similar to Bella's.
"She's right, Edward," agrees Jasper.
I sigh. I know they are right. Dad will head out on his own if we are not home within two hours of our estimated time of arrival. That is the leeway we agreed upon after our first hike to the fruit grove and following the lava tube incident.
"What about if we rest for one hour," suggests Alice, "then we can head on out. I'd really like to go home – I've had enough vacation," she pouts.
There is silence for a moment, then we all laugh. Trust Alice to tell it how it really is. "Yeah, the vay-kay is over," seconds Bella wearily.
I check my watch. It is 12.30. If we leave in one hour and take shorter rest stops along the way, we might – might – make it home by 7.30 tonight, and it will be fully dark two hours before then. I relay the plan to the others. After a few moments of consideration, everyone agrees.
I'm gonna crawl into bed with Bella and sleep for a week when we get home, I decide.
We return to the fishing village, tying up the goats with some thick pliable vines. Alice and I make three head halters and a lead line with the rope, joining the halters closely together with a kid each side of the nanny-goat.
Bella hands out pain meds to everyone – we all need them – and antibiotic pills to Jasper. She gives one to Mom as well after examining her injuries. Mom has gravel rash in addition to the rope burn. There are weeping grazes over her forearms, knees and shin bones where her skin was exposed to the sharp particles of sand. Bella cleans the wounds, applies antiseptic and bandages her limbs. Thankfully, her face is unharmed.
Jasper and I groan. Dad is gonna blame us for this. He entrusted his wife, our mother into our capable hands and we let her get hurt.
Shit, shit, SHIT!
We hang our heads and walk off to take a piss before we leave – he needs help with his pants. How fucking ironic is that?
…
Seven hours later, we stagger into camp, three hours late and dropping with exhaustion. Bella and I have dragged her precious bee comb for seven endless hours, only stopping to rest for five minutes every half hour. We both have enormous, weeping blisters on our hands. Mom has herded the goats, keeping the she-devil happy with plenty to munch on. Every time we stopped for a break the kids would suckle from the mother, keeping them happy, and her udder from bursting. Alice and Jasper doubled up the packs so we wouldn't have to leave our supplies behind.
We look like something a grizzly bear tortured before giving up and throwing us away.
The camp is lit up like the forth of July. All of the oil torches have been lit and the cooking fire is burning brightly. We come to a halt in front of a frantically relieved Dad, Rosalie and Emmett.
I think it's Emmett, but I'm not sure.
I cock my head to one side and stare at him through squinted eyes. I notice the others doing the same. I think he has been reborn as the Michelin Man.
Mom speaks up for all of us. "For goodness sake, Emmett, what in gods name happened to you?"
…
A/N: The unwelcome discovery didn't happen in this chapter – it just got too long. I am moving it to chapter 22 – sorry about that.
Please review and let me know what you think – I have over 400 reviews between TWCS and fanfiction combined. Help me get it to 500.
Next in chapter 22: We find out what happened to Emmett. The family settles into the house and we find out about the unwelcome discovery – I promise – its pivotal to the next story arc so it has to happen, it's only the initial location that will change.
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