Disclaimer: I do not own LOST. If I did, there would not have been a two-week gap between episodes! What was that all about??
Author's Note: Okay, again, this is a short chapter, but it contains something that becomes important later on. See if you can figure it out. Also, it is not my favorite chapter, but the next chapter IS!! So if you can hold out for another week, it'll all pay off. Thank you so much for reading!! Enjoy!
I glance around at the dispersing crowd, catching Hurley's eye. I approach him, and as I do so, he looks around to make sure that no one will overhear him before saying, "Dude, I'm not so sure about that Locke guy."
"You and me both," I agree, coming to stop in front of the very large man.
"And what's up with Kate going of to join him?" he asks suspiciously, if not somewhat accusingly. "You think she'll kill him, take his knives, and then come back for us?"
"Hurley, you haven't told anyone about that, have you?" I ask, suddenly alarmed. What will happen if word gets out that Kate is a fugitive? I really don't think it's that big of a deal. I mean, she could be innocent for all I know. But if people start panicking because they are afraid of her, things could start to get bad.
"No, but, I mean, don't you think we should warn Locke or something? Give him a little heads-up?"
"I thought you didn't like Locke," I say, slightly amused now that I know we don't have to worry about Kate's secret getting out. Not yet anyway.
"I don't, but, like, I don't want him to die or anything," he explains.
"Hurley, the guy's got seven knives," I chuckle. "I think he can handle himself. Don't worry."
"Alright. I guess you're right, dude," he concedes.
"That's the spirit," I smile. "Hey, you wanna play cards or something? I've got some in my bag."
"Sweet. Yeah. There's nothing else to do on this island."
"I'll be right back," I excuse myself, jogging to my tent. And just as I crawl inside and unzip my bag…
Whispers.
I do my best to ignore them and locate my cards. After some rummaging around, I find them sandwiched between some clothes. I close my fingers around the deck, all the while hearing the faint voices just out of reach. I close my bag and crawl out of the tent. Finally, I hear His voice. "Drugs." Then silence.
I give a weary sigh and murmur, "I heard you the first time. Unless you tell me something more, I don't know what you mean." I shake off my slight frustration and head back to Hurley.
"So, what'll it be?" I ask, plopping down across from him in the sand. "Go Fish? War? Rummy? Spit?"
"Rummy's cool."
"7-card, 10-card, or 500?"
"You choose."
"10-card it is," I say, dealing.
"You always bring cards with you?" he asks, examining his ten cards closely. "I mean, it's not exactly a common thing for people to bring on planes."
"I always have cards with me," I say, thoughtful. "I guess I've found that it's an easy way to get to know people. Who doesn't love cards, right?"
I remember meeting so many people when I first moved to Oxford with Donovan. Every now and then I would strike up a conversation with somone - sometimes a student, sometimes a professor - and we would end up conversing over a game of cards. Those were good times. Unfortunately, most of the time I never saw those people again; Oxford is huge after all. And now I barely remember any of their names. Oh well. It doesn't really make a difference now I suppose.
Hurley ends up beating me 8 out of 15 games, and right as I open my mouth ready to challenge him to a 16th game, Charlie comes striding over.
"Hey, do either of you know anything about fishing?" he asks rather bluntly.
"No, I don't. Sorry," I apologize, turning back to my cards.
"Yeah, kinda," Hurley tells him, looking up at Charlie and squinting the sun out of his eyes.
"Perfect," Charlie proclaims. "Come on, let's go."
He turns to leave, but I stop him.
"Wait. Why are you going fishing? Locke and Kate just went to go hunt boar."
"Alright, well," he begins, turning back to us. "You know that Shannon girl?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, well she thinks I'm this really good fisher, but I'm not, and I already told her I would catch her a fish, so I really need your help."
"Well, why don't you just tell her you lied, dude?" Hurley asks.
"Cos if I get her a fish, I think I've got a shot with her, you know? Come on, man." Charlie nudges Hurley in the arm.
Hurley looks at me for a second - contemplating - then turns back to Charlie and says, "Yeah, sure dude."
"Excellent."
They stand up and walk toward the ocean, but Hurley turns back to me, "You coming?"
"Yeah, I'll be right there," I say, staring at the cards strewn about in the sand. I quickly gather them together and cram them back into the box before running to my tent and throwing the deck into my bag. By the time I catch up to the pair of them down the beach, Charlie is already showing him how he plans to execute his plan.
"Dude, what am I supposed to do with that?" Hurley asks, eyeing a handmade spear that Charlie hands him.
"Catch fish with it," Charlie replies. "Look, I didn't have time to make a fishing pole, so we'll have to use this."
"Didn't have time, or didn't know how to?" I ask, smiling.
"I didn't know how to, alright? But, come on, we can use this. It can't be that hard."
"We'll see, dude," says Hurley taking the spear and walking into the water.
Charlie and I follow, stopping when the water reaches our knees. We watch as Hurley holds the spear at the ready, waiting for a fish to swim by. After two minutes, and without warning, Hurley plunges the rod into the water.
"Did you get it?" Charlie asks.
"No. Just missed it."
"Bollocks."
He holds the spear up again, ready and waiting, a determined look on his face. A few moments go by, and I see a quick flash of silver beneath the waves. Hurley strikes.
"Did you get it?" Charlie asks again. I stifle a laugh.
"No."
This continues on for ten minutes, each time Hurley comes up empty. Once more he plunges the spear in.
"Get it?" Charlie asks.
"Dude, quit asking me that," Hurley remarks, frustrated.
"Sorry," Charlie apologizes. "It's just, you said you knew how to fish."
"Yeah." Hurley readies himself for the seventh time. "Off the Santa Monica Pier with my old man and a fishing pole and bait. Never had to try to poke one with a sharp stick."
Another flash of silver and Charlie and I both point out the fish to Hurley who lunges again and misses.
"Well," Charlie consoles, "I really appreciate you helping me out. Thanks."
"Hey," Hurley begins, grabbing the spear with both hands, "anything that keeps me far away from that fuselage and that fricken redneck jerk!"
Another flash and Hurley strikes just a second too late. He removes the rod from the sea and smacks it repeatedly against the surface of the water. "Damn it! Crap! Crap! Son-of-a--,"
"You want me to have a go?" Charlie offers.
"Knock yourself out," Hurley remarks, handing off the spear.
"Alright," Charlie mutters, getting into position. He raises the pole, ready to strike, every sense focused on the task at hand.
"Okay, here comes one," I say, pointing it out.
"Put your weight into it," Hurley coaches. "Easy. Wait for it… Wait… Now!"
Without thinking twice, Charlie throws his whole body at the fish and ends up flailing beneath the waves, struggling to regain his footing. After a moment or two he resurfaces, dumbfounded, as though not entirely sure of what just happened.
It starts as a chuckle, but immediately grows into full-fledged hysteria as I struggle to catch my breath. The sight is just too funny to behold. Charlie's face is absolutely priceless. Hurley too is laughing, and I have to hold onto him to stabilize myself or risk falling beneath the waves as Charlie did. My stomach aches from laughing, and but it can't be helped. It's just too funny.
"Dude, you got to try to pin it," Hurley offers.
"Did you see how close I was? You said I had to corner it."
Charlie almost stumbles backwards, but Hurley catches him before he falls, and soon all three of us are laughing uncontrollably. I clutch my sides, trying to catch my breath, but the laughter keeps coming. The three of us eventually fight our way out of the water and collapse on the sand, our sides heaving.
Slowly, our fits of hysterics die off, but the smiles remain. I close my eyes, savoring the moment, the warm sun beating down on us. I let it soak into my body, covering me like a blanket, my mind slipping away from consciousness. Faintly, I hear someone say, "I'm going back in," and then an even more distant voice say, "Dude, let her sleep." Finally, a silence falls over me, and I drift off into a comfortable slumber.
Author's Note: Like I said, not my favorite chapter. This one was very much a filler chapter; although it did have an important piece of information it in that becomes important later. Did you spot it? It's pretty obvious. Anyway, the next chapter is my favorite so far, so please bear with me! Be sure to watch LOST tomorrow. Bye-bye!!