J.M.J.

Author's note: Thanks for reading! Thank you also for all the reviews! The next chapter will be out August 9. God bless!

August 7 – Monday

Phil was feeling a little better the next day. He didn't feel completely well, but it was enough to sit up and be bored with the surroundings. He had broken the table when he had fallen on it, so there was no point in sitting in one of the chairs. Instead, he sat with his back to the wall, watching Tony write in his journal, using one of the chairs to set his notebook on while he sat on the floor. He set his pencil down and moved his shoulder.

Tony noticed Phil looking at him and stopped. "I thought this would be a good chance to get caught up on the journaling, but it's a little hard on your shoulder to write for a long time without a table, it turns out."

"Sorry I broke it," Phil replied.

Tony shrugged. "It's not like you meant to."

"You don't seem like you're feeling too bad."

"Eh, so-so." Tony leaned back against the wall on the other side of the cabin. "How about you?"

"A little better." Phil shifted his position, trying to get comfortable. That wasn't easy to do on the wooden floor. "We should have thought to make beds before now. I can see why Frank didn't like being cooped up in here."

"Hopefully, it will only be for a few days, until we're better."

Phil looked above his head, to the window. The trees were too thick outside to see the sky. "Yeah, hopefully," he said, although he wasn't nearly as hopeful as Tony. Neither said anything for a few minutes. "If it doesn't turn out all right, if it turns out that this is something serious, are you afraid of dying?"

Tony didn't reply immediately. "I guess everyone's afraid of dying. I think when people say they're not afraid, they're just saying they're not going to let being afraid control them, or that they're not going to show that they're afraid."

"But if you think you're going to go to heaven, why be afraid?"

"It's a little complicated, I guess," Tony admitted. "I think it's because dying isn't a good thing in itself. We're meant to be alive. I know people in heaven are still alive, but it's different and we don't know totally what it's like. We have some ideas, but we know they're not very good ideas. I mean, the only thing we know for sure about heaven is that we'll see God, and if that doesn't make you at least a little afraid…I don't mean afraid like you think He's going to hurt you or even punish you. It's more like awe."."

"You don't make it sound very appealing."

Tony looked down at his hands. "I'm doing a bad job explaining it. I know. I always worry about that, explaining these things badly and giving people the wrong idea. But the honest answer to your question is that yes, I'm afraid of dying, because it's a natural thing to be afraid of. But even though I don't know what it will be like, and I can't even imagine, it's just because my own imagination is falling short. I'm afraid but also not at the same time, if that doesn't make it even more confusing."

Phil shook his head slightly. It seemed like a lot to ask of someone to still believe in all this after everything that had happened, and now not knowing whether he had a dangerous illness or not. He wasn't even sure at this point whether he hoped it was true or not. According to most people, having these kinds of doubts would mean it wouldn't end too well for him. He shifted position. Maybe he just needed something else to think about, instead of sitting in these four walls, waiting.

"Have you looked at those books that Eli left behind?" he asked.

Tony glanced at the chest where the books were kept. "No, I haven't. I guess we might as well, since there's nothing else to do."

HBNDHBNDHB

There was just as much work to do on the island as ever, and now they were down to only three who could work. At least, in Joe's estimation, they were. Frank was still insisting that he could help, and Joe finally gave up in exasperation trying to argue with him about it. It was Frank's arm. If he wanted to mess it up after everything that all of them had been through trying to help him, that was his own business. Frank and Chet had gone down to the beach to fish, which was just as well. Joe could avoid him while he was up here at the cabin, working on the garden.

"We can rope off those cornstalks to save the corn for seed," Joe said, gesturing toward one corner of the garden. "After that, we can start cutting up potatoes to replant them. Aunt Gertrude always said that they just need to have at least one eye on each piece for them to sprout."

Biff chuckled wryly. "I never thought I'd wind up planting corn and potatoes."

"There's a lot of things about this whole thing that I didn't think I'd wind up doing," Joe muttered. He let out a long breath and then looked around him. "We'll need some kind of stakes to put up the ropes to put around the corn."

"They'll be easy enough to make. The rope is all in the cabin," Biff said. "We'll have to ask Tony and Phil to get it for us. I'll go ask them."

He hurried away, and Joe was left with nothing to do. At least, he was left with nothing he wanted to do. Ever since Frank's accident, living on this island was a constant misery. It had turned out all right, of course, but it was a reminder that they were all a long way from any help, and something that might be a minor inconvenience at home could be deadly here. Then, too, Frank's lack of care was both unusual and unsettling. He didn't seem to know or care what the others had gone through because of his accident, and he seemed perfectly willing to throw it all away. If Joe dared to say a word about it, he'd just snap at him, until they were snapping at each other about everything.

If all that wasn't bad enough, Joe knew he wasn't being any better. He was snapping at everybody. He could see that Biff and Chet were half-afraid to talk to him, which annoyed him, but he didn't entirely blame them. There had to be some way to get out of this mess that he hadn't even realized he was getting himself into.

When Biff arrived a few minutes later, they started working on setting up stakes and tying ropes to them.

"Tony says they're both feeling a little better," Biff said.

"That's good." Joe blew out a long breath. "Say, Biff, about the way I've been acting lately…"

"Hey, it's fine," Biff said with a shrug. "I'd really rather if we all just forgot about it."