Part 4 of 6

Her feet falter. The wave of uncertainty that washes over her is rudely interrupted by a hard hand on her elbow. He right behind her, holding her back, keeping her from doing what she needs to do. Typical! Over her shoulder she says as steady as she can, "No need for goodbyes. We both knew this day was coming right from the very start. Let me go, please. I need to go home and…" But he doesn't let go. Instead, his arms slip rigidly around her and his face presses into her shoulder. She feels tiny shudders passing through him. "Richard! Let me go! I have to leave. Surely you can see that?" She tries to break his hold, tries to twist out of his grasp but he tightens his grip and a sound very close to a sob escapes him. She stills. This isn't right. This is something unexpected… something very UN-Richard.

Before she can get another word out, he whispers, "No, I can't let you go. No, I don't see that. No, no, no, no." His last words are just a breath.

"But… I HAVE to. You know everything! I can't stay here. I can't live with this. It's too awful."

He gulps, stutters a bit, "You MUST stay. Yes, I read it but I didn't under-STAND it. I WANT to under-STAND it. That's why I came back in here… to ask for your help… to help me understand." Here he turns her jerkily to face him.

She is shocked at how white and scared he looks, not like himself at all. This is a man who is facing his worst possible nightmare and afraid of dying. Automatically her hands fly to his arms and she squeezes gently to reassure him. Old habits die hard.

He doesn't notice. All he can see are her beautiful intelligent SAD eyes. All he can smell is her unique Camille-ness. All he can feel is the suffocating fear that is choking him. He gives her a little shake and pleads, "PLEASE help me understand. I WANT to live with it. Don't leave me. Please, don't go."

His words have confused her, distracted her, "Richard! What do you expect me to DO?"

"I expect you… no, I NEED you to help me. One last time. You've helped me through so much. I never realized until just now but you've helped me through more than anyone else ever has in my whole life… except maybe for…" Here he pauses.

Camille swallows a huge lump in her throat… except? Another woman? Someone he loved and left behind and maybe wishes he hadn't? Is that why this attraction hasn't gotten anywhere? Taking a deep fortifying breath, she dares to ask in a whisper, "Except for…?"

He looks at her then, "A friend from school, someone I haven't seen in over 20 years. He saved my life… then. You can save my life… now." He carefully takes her by her upper arms, flinches a bit, "Please don't twist my arm off… but WILL you help me?"

He is so serious, so sad, so subdued. She can't leave him now. Despite her better judgement, the many nights of tortured thoughts, her instinct for survival… she can't just walk away. Not now. Not without one last try to solve the monumental puzzle that is Richard Poole. She heaves a huge sigh… OK, Camille! One last attempt! Do or die. What can it hurt? She shudders… she KNOWS how much it can hurt!

"All right… but this is the last time. What do you need help with?"

He whips around and scoops up her journal from her desk, holds it up like a shield in front of him, "With this. With ALL of this! What does it MEAN?"

She can only stare at him in bafflement.

Outside, Fidel and Dwayne are practically bursting out of their skins. They'd seen the Chief go charging in one door. They'd seen Camille come charging out the other door. It was like watching some kind of French farce… except this isn't funny. Not at all. Camille had turned, stood in the doorway for a moment then gone back inside. Hopefully, they've been talking all this time and she hasn't been twisting bits of him off to scatter on the beaches later tonight. There hasn't been any yelling… so that's maybe a good sign?

"Think we should go back inside and try to help them?" Fidel asks after a long dreadful wait.

Dwayne shoots him an incredulous glance, "You MAD, boy? I don't understand the Chief at all an' Camille was a mad woman when she came back today. There's NO WAY I'm goin' back in there until I'm sure they aren't killin' one other…" He strains to listen, "Man, I wish we could hear what's goin' on."

"Maybe it's best if we don't. It could be pretty personal… if they are discussing what Juliet says they've been dancing around for the past few months or so."

Dwayne quirks an eyebrow, "Oh? And what does Juliet think is goin' on?"

"Well, you know, private things… things you and I have no business intruding upon."

"Oh. OH! What on earth makes Juliet think THAT? I've never seen two people who enjoy fightin' so much! They wouldn't last a month together! It would be bloodshed from one end of the island to…"

Fidel's hand is hard on his arm, "Dwayne," he breathes "… look!"

Dwayne looks. Looks but doesn't believe it. Sees it but doesn't know WHAT he sees.

Camille… and the Chief… have come out onto the veranda. They are sitting down on one of the benches and they are leaning in close to look at a notebook. He looks a bit pale, sick almost. She looks grim, still a bit angry… but they are definitely NOT killing one another. Not yet.

"Fidel! They're still talkin' and he's in one piece! Oh, this looks good. Maybe this will work out after all! Come on, you two! Figure it out!"

They crouch lower in the bushes and hold their breath.

END part 4