Charlie and Kate trudged along. Charlie was meant to hold the bag as Kate climbed the trees. He stared dumbly around him, and you could almost hear him thinking:
"Did I lose her here? Or was it here?"
Kate noticed this, and tried to distract him. She joked with him, even turned on her charm that had seduced so many men. Charlie just blushed a little and counted the fruit in the bag. Counting, always counting…always making sure that they were both there…that they were both alive…that he wasn't around…that they weren't around…until…
"Oh no…" Kate muttered. "What?" Charlie asked. Kate blushed and smiled at him, embaressed. "I have to pee…" she told him, almost silently. Charlie's bloodshot eyes widened. "I'll only be gone for a second," she reassured him. "Just beyond those bushes…see? So you can't. See, that is." Charlie looked confused and was quiet.
"You'll come back?"
He asked it like a child, begging his mother not to leave him with the baby sitter. He looked like one too. He was sitting on the ground, with his legs folded under him, one hand holding a half eaten apple, the other one scratching his ear. Kate felt her heart breaking.
"Of course," she murmured. "I promise."
Charlie watched her until her bright green top dissappeared among the branches. He stared at his hand, the one holding the apple, and decided he didn't want it anymore. He threw it at the tree. It missed. Charlie looked up, gazing at the canopy, trying to see if he could see some sky peeking through. He couldn't. Sunlight barely touched his face. A bird flew overhead. Charlie counted the fruit. He was a good counter. He was good for something. He could hear good, too. If the people on the island liked him anymore, he'd be a good lookout. They just didn't. Like him, he meant. They were afraid of him.
He heard the scream then.