Chapter 8
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He scooped up the remnants of the crate and we started walking back to
the bonfire area. We stacked the firewood into a big pile, though a few times I
caught Jack staring at me rather than working. After about an hour of toil, the
bonfire was ready to go, but it was still light outside. Jack and I went back into
the cabin and ate a PB&J dinner. He seemed to have developed an extreme liking
for my new attire; he was constantly tugging or stroking my scarves. When I
suggested that he could trade his old bandana for a new one, however, Jack
adamantly refused.
"Not a chance, love. This's me lucky scarf, savvy?" I gave up without a
fight; personally, I loved his old bandana. We both finished our sandwiches at
the same time, then sat there staring at each other. Eventually I spoke.
"I don't know about you, but I'm still hungry. And I'm sick of peanut
butter and jelly." Jack gave me a rueful grin.
"Hate to say it, but so am I. Don't suppose you have anything else.?" I
shook my head.
"Not unless you want to risk Spam. Wait," I said, suddenly remembering.
"When we were exploring this afternoon, I could've sworn I saw some coconuts
in the palm trees. Maybe there're some on the ground we can eat." We both leapt
up from the table and ran outside to the trees. There were coconuts all right: at
the very top of a 30-ft. palm tree. I groaned, and sat down dispiritedly.
"I guess this means no coconuts," I said dully. "I really wanted one, too,
but we'd need a crane or something to reach those."
"Or a Sparrow," retorted Jack, and before I knew it he was climbing up
the tree like a monkey. I didn't say anything for fear of distracting him, but I
watched amazed as he reached the top and started plucking off coconuts,
holding onto the trunk with only his thighs.
"Bombs away!" he called down to me. I retreated to a safe distance as the
coconuts came hurtling down, one after another. When about ten of the fruits lay
on the sand, Jack began his descent. In a few minutes both his feet were safely
back on the ground, and I was delighted.
"Jack, that was awesome! Thanks!" He beamed and swept me a low bow.
"You're welcome. Now, love, can you spy any sharp rocks? We've still got
to open these." I scouted around for a second, then picked up a jagged stone that
had been perilously close to my bare foot and handed it to Jack. He accepted it
with a gracious "Thankee," then braced a coconut on an embedded rock in the
ground. Lifting my sharp stone, he began hammering on the fruit, his bobbing,
red-capped head reminding me forcefully of a woodpecker. After perhaps a
minute of pounding, a large crack split the air. Jack immediately flung the rock
aside and grabbed the halves before they had completely split. Holding the
pieces together, he beckoned to me.
"Come 'ere, love." I hopped over fallen coconuts to reach him. "Put your
head back and open your mouth," he commanded. I did so, and he held the
coconut over my mouth, then began to open it slowly. A stream of cloudy
coconut milk poured from it into my mouth, still warm from brewing all day in
the hot Caribbean sun. Some of the liquid ran over my lips and down my neck
and chest, but I didn't care: it was delicious. I grabbed Jack's hands before he had
completely drained the coconut and took the fruit from him.
"Open," I said, then began feeding him the milk as he had done for me.
When the last drops fell past his lips, I had barely lowered the coconut when Jack
grabbed me and pressed his lips to mine, his tongue exploring my mouth. I gave
back as good as I got, both of us tasting the tropical fruit flavor all over again, but
in a different yet quite pleasing way this time. After a few long moments our lips
parted and Jack grinned, his arms still around me and our faces inches apart.
"One of me favorite activities: coconut snogging. What d'ye think?" I
pretended to be indecisive.
"Hmm, I can't really say. I've only done it once, you know."
"Good point," he said, so we gave it another go.
"Well?" he asked again, nose to nose with me.
"Okay, I like it."
"Thought so, love." Somehow throughout all this I had managed to keep
hold of the coconut halves. I held them up for Jack to see.
"More coconut?" I asked, rather out of breath. He took one carefully from
me, then handed me a small knife. "Ye'll need this. These buggers are devilishly hard to eat." We sat together
with out backs to the palm tree, prying away at the coconut meat. Jack was right;
after about five minutes I'd only been able to carve out a tiny section of the fruit.
I ate what I'd sliced out, enjoying the juiciness, but five seconds later it was gone.
I gave the knife and the coconut a dirty look, unwilling to get back to work. Jack
looked up from his already half-prepared fruit and saw me beginning to pick
half-heartedly at the coconut meat.
"'Ere, love, let me help." He took the coconut from my unresisting hands
and carved out a small piece for me. He held it out to me, I opened my mouth,
and Jack placed it gently on my tongue. I chewed and swallowed, my gaze never
leaving Jack's face. He fed me piece after piece, and with each morsel, the
warmth that had begun burning in my body spread, until I was tingling from
head to foot. When I had swallowed the last piece, I picked up Jack's prepared
coconut and was about to give him similar treatment when he put his hand on
mine to restrain me.
"Save some for later, love. D'ye think it's dark enough yet?" I was
confused at this abrupt change of subject, and somewhat hurt that he had
refused my advance. I reluctantly looked away from Jack and up at the sky; it
was a shade of deepest blue, with evening stars just beginning to appear.
"Looks dark enough for me," I said, looking back at him for some clue as
to his intentions. He nodded in agreement and gathered up an armful of
coconuts before standing up.
"We'd better head back, then. I'll work on these if ye can find something to light
yon kindling with. Back to the lodgings with ye," He said, giving me a soft shove in the
direction of the hut. He sauntered back to the beach while I headed for the cabin,
suddenly a little irritated and doubtful. Why had he not wanted the coconut I was going to
give him? What did he mean by dismissing me like a servant?
He scooped up the remnants of the crate and we started walking back to
the bonfire area. We stacked the firewood into a big pile, though a few times I
caught Jack staring at me rather than working. After about an hour of toil, the
bonfire was ready to go, but it was still light outside. Jack and I went back into
the cabin and ate a PB&J dinner. He seemed to have developed an extreme liking
for my new attire; he was constantly tugging or stroking my scarves. When I
suggested that he could trade his old bandana for a new one, however, Jack
adamantly refused.
"Not a chance, love. This's me lucky scarf, savvy?" I gave up without a
fight; personally, I loved his old bandana. We both finished our sandwiches at
the same time, then sat there staring at each other. Eventually I spoke.
"I don't know about you, but I'm still hungry. And I'm sick of peanut
butter and jelly." Jack gave me a rueful grin.
"Hate to say it, but so am I. Don't suppose you have anything else.?" I
shook my head.
"Not unless you want to risk Spam. Wait," I said, suddenly remembering.
"When we were exploring this afternoon, I could've sworn I saw some coconuts
in the palm trees. Maybe there're some on the ground we can eat." We both leapt
up from the table and ran outside to the trees. There were coconuts all right: at
the very top of a 30-ft. palm tree. I groaned, and sat down dispiritedly.
"I guess this means no coconuts," I said dully. "I really wanted one, too,
but we'd need a crane or something to reach those."
"Or a Sparrow," retorted Jack, and before I knew it he was climbing up
the tree like a monkey. I didn't say anything for fear of distracting him, but I
watched amazed as he reached the top and started plucking off coconuts,
holding onto the trunk with only his thighs.
"Bombs away!" he called down to me. I retreated to a safe distance as the
coconuts came hurtling down, one after another. When about ten of the fruits lay
on the sand, Jack began his descent. In a few minutes both his feet were safely
back on the ground, and I was delighted.
"Jack, that was awesome! Thanks!" He beamed and swept me a low bow.
"You're welcome. Now, love, can you spy any sharp rocks? We've still got
to open these." I scouted around for a second, then picked up a jagged stone that
had been perilously close to my bare foot and handed it to Jack. He accepted it
with a gracious "Thankee," then braced a coconut on an embedded rock in the
ground. Lifting my sharp stone, he began hammering on the fruit, his bobbing,
red-capped head reminding me forcefully of a woodpecker. After perhaps a
minute of pounding, a large crack split the air. Jack immediately flung the rock
aside and grabbed the halves before they had completely split. Holding the
pieces together, he beckoned to me.
"Come 'ere, love." I hopped over fallen coconuts to reach him. "Put your
head back and open your mouth," he commanded. I did so, and he held the
coconut over my mouth, then began to open it slowly. A stream of cloudy
coconut milk poured from it into my mouth, still warm from brewing all day in
the hot Caribbean sun. Some of the liquid ran over my lips and down my neck
and chest, but I didn't care: it was delicious. I grabbed Jack's hands before he had
completely drained the coconut and took the fruit from him.
"Open," I said, then began feeding him the milk as he had done for me.
When the last drops fell past his lips, I had barely lowered the coconut when Jack
grabbed me and pressed his lips to mine, his tongue exploring my mouth. I gave
back as good as I got, both of us tasting the tropical fruit flavor all over again, but
in a different yet quite pleasing way this time. After a few long moments our lips
parted and Jack grinned, his arms still around me and our faces inches apart.
"One of me favorite activities: coconut snogging. What d'ye think?" I
pretended to be indecisive.
"Hmm, I can't really say. I've only done it once, you know."
"Good point," he said, so we gave it another go.
"Well?" he asked again, nose to nose with me.
"Okay, I like it."
"Thought so, love." Somehow throughout all this I had managed to keep
hold of the coconut halves. I held them up for Jack to see.
"More coconut?" I asked, rather out of breath. He took one carefully from
me, then handed me a small knife. "Ye'll need this. These buggers are devilishly hard to eat." We sat together
with out backs to the palm tree, prying away at the coconut meat. Jack was right;
after about five minutes I'd only been able to carve out a tiny section of the fruit.
I ate what I'd sliced out, enjoying the juiciness, but five seconds later it was gone.
I gave the knife and the coconut a dirty look, unwilling to get back to work. Jack
looked up from his already half-prepared fruit and saw me beginning to pick
half-heartedly at the coconut meat.
"'Ere, love, let me help." He took the coconut from my unresisting hands
and carved out a small piece for me. He held it out to me, I opened my mouth,
and Jack placed it gently on my tongue. I chewed and swallowed, my gaze never
leaving Jack's face. He fed me piece after piece, and with each morsel, the
warmth that had begun burning in my body spread, until I was tingling from
head to foot. When I had swallowed the last piece, I picked up Jack's prepared
coconut and was about to give him similar treatment when he put his hand on
mine to restrain me.
"Save some for later, love. D'ye think it's dark enough yet?" I was
confused at this abrupt change of subject, and somewhat hurt that he had
refused my advance. I reluctantly looked away from Jack and up at the sky; it
was a shade of deepest blue, with evening stars just beginning to appear.
"Looks dark enough for me," I said, looking back at him for some clue as
to his intentions. He nodded in agreement and gathered up an armful of
coconuts before standing up.
"We'd better head back, then. I'll work on these if ye can find something to light
yon kindling with. Back to the lodgings with ye," He said, giving me a soft shove in the
direction of the hut. He sauntered back to the beach while I headed for the cabin,
suddenly a little irritated and doubtful. Why had he not wanted the coconut I was going to
give him? What did he mean by dismissing me like a servant?