Day Fourteen
A fortnight doesn't seem like that long. A mere two weeks. A piddling fourteen days. And yet, in some ways, it feels like I've been on this island for a year. I seriously doubt, once I get back to Real Life, that I'll be eating rice anytime soon. Even with the fruits the tribe gathers, and the fish I have the knack of catching, our diet is seriously limited. Sure, I could easily produce enough food for an incredible feast. But not only would that make the Muggles a tad bit suspicious, it would also give my teammates extra strength. In just a few days, we're no longer going to be competing as a team, and that's when I'll need all the other players to be feeling as weak and hungry as possible. Not only am I hungry, I also feel filthy. My hair is unpleasantly tangled, to say the least. Rinsing in the stream only helps so much; I desperately need a shampoo. I've started parting it in the middle and making two braids down the sides, which keeps the tangled mess out of my face for the most part.
Food is the primary topic of conversation on the fishing boat this morning. Ellen and I are on the boat, dragging our net behind. Chet keeps resurfacing next to us in our reward snorkel and mask. I think he's trying to herd fish into the net, but he's not having any success. The tribe as a whole has failed to catch fish with our line and hooks, as well. The net has, so far, been our greatest fishing tool. I'm sure to never catch fish two days in a row, and I've actually cast my fishing spell from the shore, to make sure fish get caught when I'm not out in the boat. No need for the tribe to think I'm some sort of Magic Fish Girl.
"Chet, you're just scaring the fish away," complains Ellen. Chet bats his eyes at her, then splashes her with water and submerges again. Ellen tries to look stern, but can't quite manage. It's amazing what a few nights of solid sleep can do for a tribe; on the whole, we're a lot friendlier and peppier since Bob left. Ellen is turned away, her eyes searching the shore. I decide to lean over and cast my fishing spell, but before I have a chance, she turns back and looks me in the eye. "Hermione, I want to ask you about Kiki."
I try to keep a neutral expression on my face. "What do you want to ask?"
"She talked to me right before we voted Bob out, and I had the feeling she'd already been talking to you. She didn't tell me who she was teamed up with, but she did tell me that 'other people' were already going to vote for Bob. You two seem to have become very close."
"Well, we're close in age, and we have a lot in common. That doesn't necessarily mean we've teamed up." I just don't know how much to share with these people. I know I don't trust them, but I want to make them believe they can trust me.
"I was just thinking." Ellen purses her lips and looks over to where Chet is swimming, several yards away from our boat. She lowers her voice to a near whisper. "It's three women and three men here now. Maybe we should think about voting together, in case the guys are planning to get rid of us one by one."
Fascinating; everyone wants to play everyone against everyone else. Ellen is pretty sure about me and Kiki, but I realize she knows nothing about the agreement Kiki and I made with Pete. If she did, she wouldn't worry so much about a men against women vote; she should be more worried about younger versus older. I pretend to put some thought into Ellen's offer, then agree to side with her. We decide to talk to Kiki when we get back to shore. I'm not worried about making this particular alliance; our next vote has already been discussed, and it isn't her.
* * * * *
The clearing in the jungle has a great canopy of trees overhead, making it pleasantly cool and shady. We make our way to a set of green benches next to a set of orange ones. Fetia Rai goes over to their orange benches at about the same time. Malfoy finds my eyes and gives me his traditional wink. I pick up one of my two braids of hair off my shoulders and wave it at him, earning one of his beautiful genuine smiles.
Marcus hands each team a pouch, and we're surprised to find that the pouches hold actual cash. He announces that since we've been here two weeks, and are probably very hungry, he's going to hold a food auction. Each team is given a thousand, and can bid on items until the money or the items run out. Geoff immediately takes charge of the pouch of money. I check on Fetia Rai, and the burly, hairy guy who acts like their boss already has their pouch in his hands. As Marcus is preparing the first item, Pete scoots closer next to me and puts his hand on my leg. Hello, Mr. Inappropriate! I hear a choked cough from the orange seats, and find Malfoy stifling a laugh with his hand over his mouth. I turn to Pete, smile at him, pick his hand up off my leg and place it back on his own.
Marcus shows us the first item, a big hamburger with chips and, as he puts it, "all the fixings." We bid up to three hundred, but Geoff convinces us to let it go to Fetia Rai at three-twenty. There could, after all, be better things coming. I don't think anything could taste better than that burger, which is being ravenously consumed by the other tribe. My stomach has decided to attempt bidding all by itself, given the grumbling noises it's putting forth. I keep my eyes on Marcus so I don't have to watch the torture of the other tribe eating.
The next dish is a "surprise," hidden on a covered plate. Since Fetia Rai is still feasting on their prize, they let us have the mystery dish for a mere hundred and forty. Geoff takes the cash up to Marcus, who then reveals the most gorgeous hot fudge sundae I've ever seen. It's hustled back to us, and we proceed to use our spoons like shovels. I'm not proud of my sundae-attacking zeal, but oh my, it tastes fantastic. Next up, a platter of fresh vegetables and a couple of dipping sauces. Geoff is a smart bidder, and Fetia Rai takes it for three hundred. It leaves them with less than four hundred in their pouch, whereas we have over eight hundred left.
Marcus tells us that the next item is the last for the auction, and we know we've got it won no matter what. He reveals a plate of Italian favorites; meatballs, ravioli, tortellini, all covered in red sauce and melted cheese. We bid our entire eight hundred and sixty dollars, and Geoff goes up to claim the prize. Marcus stops him, and adds, "it's not a real Italian meal without red wine." He reaches beneath the table and pulls out two bottles of house red as we all cheer. We shovel down the Italian and wash it down with a bottle of the wine. With our already fatigued state, we're fairly tipsy already, and decide to take the second bottle back to camp.
I'm feeling a little lightheaded, and need to lean against the benches for a moment after I get up. Malfoy looks over as his tribe is getting ready to leave and gives me a worried look. I glare back at him. Bastard, trying to get me to think he's concerned about me. Kiki and I sling our arms around each other and set off in the direction of camp, giggling madly about nothing in particular. I can almost feel Malfoy watching me leave. I make sure to not give him the satisfaction of our standard goodbye winks or looks, as revenge for trying to mess with my mind. The last thing this frivolous exchange of ours needs is actual feeling.
A fortnight doesn't seem like that long. A mere two weeks. A piddling fourteen days. And yet, in some ways, it feels like I've been on this island for a year. I seriously doubt, once I get back to Real Life, that I'll be eating rice anytime soon. Even with the fruits the tribe gathers, and the fish I have the knack of catching, our diet is seriously limited. Sure, I could easily produce enough food for an incredible feast. But not only would that make the Muggles a tad bit suspicious, it would also give my teammates extra strength. In just a few days, we're no longer going to be competing as a team, and that's when I'll need all the other players to be feeling as weak and hungry as possible. Not only am I hungry, I also feel filthy. My hair is unpleasantly tangled, to say the least. Rinsing in the stream only helps so much; I desperately need a shampoo. I've started parting it in the middle and making two braids down the sides, which keeps the tangled mess out of my face for the most part.
Food is the primary topic of conversation on the fishing boat this morning. Ellen and I are on the boat, dragging our net behind. Chet keeps resurfacing next to us in our reward snorkel and mask. I think he's trying to herd fish into the net, but he's not having any success. The tribe as a whole has failed to catch fish with our line and hooks, as well. The net has, so far, been our greatest fishing tool. I'm sure to never catch fish two days in a row, and I've actually cast my fishing spell from the shore, to make sure fish get caught when I'm not out in the boat. No need for the tribe to think I'm some sort of Magic Fish Girl.
"Chet, you're just scaring the fish away," complains Ellen. Chet bats his eyes at her, then splashes her with water and submerges again. Ellen tries to look stern, but can't quite manage. It's amazing what a few nights of solid sleep can do for a tribe; on the whole, we're a lot friendlier and peppier since Bob left. Ellen is turned away, her eyes searching the shore. I decide to lean over and cast my fishing spell, but before I have a chance, she turns back and looks me in the eye. "Hermione, I want to ask you about Kiki."
I try to keep a neutral expression on my face. "What do you want to ask?"
"She talked to me right before we voted Bob out, and I had the feeling she'd already been talking to you. She didn't tell me who she was teamed up with, but she did tell me that 'other people' were already going to vote for Bob. You two seem to have become very close."
"Well, we're close in age, and we have a lot in common. That doesn't necessarily mean we've teamed up." I just don't know how much to share with these people. I know I don't trust them, but I want to make them believe they can trust me.
"I was just thinking." Ellen purses her lips and looks over to where Chet is swimming, several yards away from our boat. She lowers her voice to a near whisper. "It's three women and three men here now. Maybe we should think about voting together, in case the guys are planning to get rid of us one by one."
Fascinating; everyone wants to play everyone against everyone else. Ellen is pretty sure about me and Kiki, but I realize she knows nothing about the agreement Kiki and I made with Pete. If she did, she wouldn't worry so much about a men against women vote; she should be more worried about younger versus older. I pretend to put some thought into Ellen's offer, then agree to side with her. We decide to talk to Kiki when we get back to shore. I'm not worried about making this particular alliance; our next vote has already been discussed, and it isn't her.
* * * * *
The clearing in the jungle has a great canopy of trees overhead, making it pleasantly cool and shady. We make our way to a set of green benches next to a set of orange ones. Fetia Rai goes over to their orange benches at about the same time. Malfoy finds my eyes and gives me his traditional wink. I pick up one of my two braids of hair off my shoulders and wave it at him, earning one of his beautiful genuine smiles.
Marcus hands each team a pouch, and we're surprised to find that the pouches hold actual cash. He announces that since we've been here two weeks, and are probably very hungry, he's going to hold a food auction. Each team is given a thousand, and can bid on items until the money or the items run out. Geoff immediately takes charge of the pouch of money. I check on Fetia Rai, and the burly, hairy guy who acts like their boss already has their pouch in his hands. As Marcus is preparing the first item, Pete scoots closer next to me and puts his hand on my leg. Hello, Mr. Inappropriate! I hear a choked cough from the orange seats, and find Malfoy stifling a laugh with his hand over his mouth. I turn to Pete, smile at him, pick his hand up off my leg and place it back on his own.
Marcus shows us the first item, a big hamburger with chips and, as he puts it, "all the fixings." We bid up to three hundred, but Geoff convinces us to let it go to Fetia Rai at three-twenty. There could, after all, be better things coming. I don't think anything could taste better than that burger, which is being ravenously consumed by the other tribe. My stomach has decided to attempt bidding all by itself, given the grumbling noises it's putting forth. I keep my eyes on Marcus so I don't have to watch the torture of the other tribe eating.
The next dish is a "surprise," hidden on a covered plate. Since Fetia Rai is still feasting on their prize, they let us have the mystery dish for a mere hundred and forty. Geoff takes the cash up to Marcus, who then reveals the most gorgeous hot fudge sundae I've ever seen. It's hustled back to us, and we proceed to use our spoons like shovels. I'm not proud of my sundae-attacking zeal, but oh my, it tastes fantastic. Next up, a platter of fresh vegetables and a couple of dipping sauces. Geoff is a smart bidder, and Fetia Rai takes it for three hundred. It leaves them with less than four hundred in their pouch, whereas we have over eight hundred left.
Marcus tells us that the next item is the last for the auction, and we know we've got it won no matter what. He reveals a plate of Italian favorites; meatballs, ravioli, tortellini, all covered in red sauce and melted cheese. We bid our entire eight hundred and sixty dollars, and Geoff goes up to claim the prize. Marcus stops him, and adds, "it's not a real Italian meal without red wine." He reaches beneath the table and pulls out two bottles of house red as we all cheer. We shovel down the Italian and wash it down with a bottle of the wine. With our already fatigued state, we're fairly tipsy already, and decide to take the second bottle back to camp.
I'm feeling a little lightheaded, and need to lean against the benches for a moment after I get up. Malfoy looks over as his tribe is getting ready to leave and gives me a worried look. I glare back at him. Bastard, trying to get me to think he's concerned about me. Kiki and I sling our arms around each other and set off in the direction of camp, giggling madly about nothing in particular. I can almost feel Malfoy watching me leave. I make sure to not give him the satisfaction of our standard goodbye winks or looks, as revenge for trying to mess with my mind. The last thing this frivolous exchange of ours needs is actual feeling.