It always amazes me how I can still feel tired after I've slept all night. It was five in the morning when I woke up the next day. I was still grimy, with sand stuck all over my arms, under my shirt, and in my ears, but I was awake, and I wasn't throwing up. Instead, I was painfully hungry. I stumbled out of bed and looked around, trying to get a hold of the room I was in. The walls were painted light blue and It was incredibly neat. There was an arm chair, a book shelf, and two large windows pouring in light.
I quickly located the door and pushed it open, walking down a long hallway until I found a kitchen full of people. Elliot and his sister were sitting at a small table, along with their mother and a man so old I could only guess was their grandfather. As I walked in Elliot jumped up.
"She's awake! Um, are you feeling better?" He asked, suddenly biting his lip and looking insecure. I nodded quickly, giving myself a small head pain, and his mother stood up and walked over. "What's your name, sweetheart?"
I opened my mouth to croak out an answer, but the old man spoke before I could, in a voice much stronger than I imagined mine would be. "Don't pester her with questions, Felicia. Clean her up and we can all discuss what happened afterwards. Felicia nodded and took my hand, leading me down the hall to a small brown door.
"Sorry about that. Here's the bathroom." She ran a bath for me, and scrubbed my scalp and hair free of all the dirt and sand. My clothes she took and promised to wash while I was bathing. The soft, fresh, warm water held such a contrast to the forceful and cold saltwater to the ocean that I sunk under it and just relaxed, probably for a good fifteen minutes. It felt good to feel the sand drifting off of me, and I was grateful that Felicia had washed my long brown hair. It must have been super irritating to get the sand out, especially with hair as long and thick of mine.
Thinking of hair reminded me of the bright pink/orange of the family who took me in. Well, mainly the boy's. Elliot: the one who rescued me. Immediately the water felt cold and dirty, and I rose, grabbing a towel. Right on cue, Felicia cracked the door and said, "I'm washing your clothes right now, so here are some of Natalie's, mine, and Elliot's to try on. I didn't know what would fit you, so I just got you a bunch of everything."
And she really did. She handed me a huge pile of clothes through the doorway and I looked through them as my bath drained. Felicia was so tiny; her clothes would never fit me, and Natalie seemed to like really thick turtlenecks, a huge no-no. How could you wear turtlenecks in 70 degree weather? I eventually settled on wearing a pair of Natalie's jeans (And underwear, which felt totally awkward) with one of Elliot's huge button-down shirts.
I walked out into the kitchen with much more confidence than I left with. I was clean, and therefore, I was socially acceptable. Felicia had pulled up another to the table, and Elliot was cooking something at the stove. It smelled amazing, and I remembered that I was starving. I sat down in the chair and the old man stared directly into my eyes before asking, "So, what's your name?"
"Chelsea." I was surprised my voice didn't hurt when I spoke. I was worried it would be gravely or scratch after being sick. Elliot brought over a plate of eggs and bacon, and I gorged myself. Wow. He was a pretty good chef.
"Well cut to the chase, Chelsea, why'd you wash up on the beach?" The girl, Natalie, asked; propping her elbows on the table and staring intensely at me.
"Natalie…" Elliot made an apprehensive face and Natalie glared at him. "She's been through a traumatic experience…" I shoveled in another spoonful of egg, swallowed, and replied, "No, no, it's alright."
"I was on a ship going to visit my brother, and something happened, I'm not sure what, but while everyone was reporting to the life boats, I fell over the railing and into the water." I shivered thinking about it, how I could be dead right now. Elliot's face broke into sympathy and he made a motion like he was going to touch my arm, but didn't.
"Hmm. Nothing you can't live past." The grandfather grumbled, leaning back. "Everyone's boat sinks once in their life." I glanced up at him, a little put off and unsure if he was serious or just good with metaphors. "You just need to move on, get a job, get married; all that jazz. How old are you anyway?"
"Um, 19." I replied, scraping the last bits of eggs off of my plate.
"Perfect. You should be laying the foundation of your future anyway. Like Elliot, he's 19, and I'm training him to take over our business. One day he'll be as successful as me, if he ever learns." Elliot blushed and sank low in his seat. "Anyway, what can you do?"
I carefully considered my achievements. I'd always done well in school, I used to be able to play the recorder in elementary school, and in seventh grade I'd won the school spelling bee. I blurted out, "I can garden." Huh? Where did that come from? My biggest gardening feat was one measly tomato plant in my backyard a few years ago, and it died from being overwatered. My gardening accomplishments must be below zero.
"Exactly! A farmer! I was raised on a farm, and so were my children! I can train you to be the best rancher in the world, and one day you will marry my grandson, and we won't have to rely on his feeble attempts at success anymore!" The man yelled, jumping up to stand on his chair and reach for the sky. Elliot turned read and stared at the floor.
"Dad, get down, you'll hurt yourself," Felicia pleaded, "and I don't like it when you try to set Elliot up with dates, either." Natalie snickered.
"Well can you blame him, mom? You don't see Elliot getting a girlfriend by himself." Natalie retorted. Taro nodded in agreement.
"What your son is lacking, Felicia, is courage. He doesn't have guts and girls think he's weak." Felicia opened her mouth to scold Natalie and argue with her father, but my mind was too busy. Elliot, weak? Not the Elliot she knew. Not the Elliot who saved her life. Nuh-uh. No way.
"I think Elliot is very brave!" I stated, crossing my arms and staring defiantly at Natalie. "He saved me, and carried me back to the house. And if that isn't brave or strong to you, then I think you need to lower your expectations." My voice started off strong and slowly diminished to a whisper, ashamed for yelling at the family that took me in and cared for me. I finished with an awkward, "Sorry…"
Natalie, who had been suppressing a laugh, let it out in a big hoot. "Well Elliot, it seems you may have a chance after all!" I glared at her as Elliot got up to wash my breakfast plate, cringing all the way to the sink.
"She's a feisty one, alright. You'll make a fine farmer." The old man confirmed. "Call me Taro; I'll be your teacher from now on. I'll make a rancher out of you yet."
"I don't want to be a rancher," I said, quite cross. "I want to go home. Do you have a telephone?" I crossed my arms and slumped in my seat, aware that I was being rude and feeling guilty from it.
"Nope. There aren't any land lines around here, and unless you have a cell phone, you're out of luck. We'd probably be out of reception, anyway. You'll have to write your family, or wait until the next boat off the island." Natalie replied, tilting her head to observe me with curious eyes.
I sighed. I could only imagine how my family was reacting. They'd probably hear the news of the boat sinking and think I was dead. How long would it take for my letter to get to them, a week? "Alright. May I have some paper?"
I ended up writing a thorough 3 page letter to my parents, explaining what happened and promising to be home as soon as I could. I left an address for them to write back, and hesitantly handed to envelope to Taro. "Um…sorry for snapping back there..." I apologized, following him outside.
He nodded, muttering gruffly. "Fair enough." He placed two fingers to his mouth and let out a sharp whistle. A snowy gray pigeon fluttered down and tilted its head, staring at me. "Take this to Chelsea's family." He tied the letter to the pigeon's leg and sent it flying in the air.
Watching it take off, I was highly doubtful that the pigeon would reach its destination. How would it know where my parents were anyway? "Are you sure it'll work?" I whispered, staring as the bird flew off into the distance. The comfort of my family might be resting on that simple bird. I sighed an turned back to the house as Elliot stuck his head out the window.
"Hey Chelsea, um…want me to show you around town?"