Six more days passed, and their life consisted of cutting down tree limbs and foliage for a shelter, collecting firewood, keeping the coals hot, gathering fresh water, and catching fish for their meals. Harm had actually gotten the hang of using the line and bait from the emergency kit, and was glad to contribute some protein to their meager diet. They were still in a constant state of hunger, but at least they would not starve. Barnacles, wild onions, and a few berries also sustained them. Disappointingly, there did not seem to be any fruit trees or coconuts on the island. They used a grid of rocks over the fire to cook their food, and devoured every last morsel, tasteless as it was. Their makeshift hut was completed and would provide good protection from the sun and harsh elements. It had only rained on them a few times, but given the tropical environment, they prepared for more precipitation. The shelter had a thick roof and thatched walls on three sides, interwoven with vines and palms. It was set back a bit into the trees, facing the beach and shrouded with a partial door made from one large palm frond. The floor was left as sand, since it was fairly soft to sleep on. It took nearly half a day, but Harm and Mac also built a help signal at the top of one of the ridges – a bonfire ready for ignition. They even designated a latrine area of sorts, so that the encampment remained sanitary.
On other fronts, Harm and Mac continued to have problems relating to one another. Harm grew increasingly frustrated with Mac's disgruntled behavior. She was often sarcastic, and he was getting tired of it. Who would have thought they had once been best friends? He began to avoid interactions with her, and she, too, seemed a million miles away. Her mood was pensive and tense. Harm would frequently catch her looking off in the distance, preoccupied in thought, sadness written all over her face. He wanted to reach out to her somehow, and find the old Mac buried deep inside. He hated to see her so troubled. He missed the considerate and cheerful person he used to know. In the meantime, he tried to stay out of range from her caustic remarks. One of Mac's glares was enough to dampen his mood for hours. All of the conflict just left Harm feeling lonely and depressed. In truth, it only added to the pervasive disappointment they both felt when they were not immediately rescued. Not one vessel or airplane came close to the island in nearly a week. They settled in for the long haul with immense reluctance.
The novelty of being on a deserted island had certainly worn off after twelve more days. Harm and Mac began to create a life for themselves, and accepted the notion that their imposed vacation may not be temporary. The good part was that living with each other for an extended period of time brought about an unspoken truce between them. It was impossible for Mac to keep up her high level of animosity against Harm. She had to admit that he wasn't all that bad, surely not malicious. Mac had vilified him in her mind, but confronting the real Harm on a daily basis was disarming. Sleeping next to him and sharing meals together around the clock eventually eroded her defenses. She couldn't help but soften over time as they did virtually everything side by side. Of course, Mac had her grievances against him and kept an emotional distance, but at least their relationship became amiable once again. It was as if a moratorium had been imposed on the underlying issues between them. They had moved on without really talking, but at least their new alliance lead the way to reviving the friendship they once had.
In terms of life experience, it was interesting for Harm to notice the changes that transpired in them physically and otherwise. Both he and Mac had lost weight during their stay, becoming more lean and fit from daily exertion and activity. It took a lot of energy to maintain their camp site and food requirements for an adequate diet. Their skin had grown tan from sun exposure, even though they'd applied sunscreen to the most sensitive places to keep from getting burned. Over time, their skin had adjusted to the intense sunlight. They dressed in comfortable light clothes, which quickly began to fade from salt-water and sunshine. Given their limited wardrobe and the heat, this meant that Harm and Mac put on only the bare essentials – usually shorts, t-shirts, or swimsuits. Mac also had her Marine issue skirt to fall back on. There was no way Harm could wear his polyester summer whites in the high humidity, so he utilized them as a pillow. He thought about cutting the pants off to make a second pair of shorts, but somehow it felt sacrilegious. He wore jeans or his long sleeve shirt when the evenings turned cooler, which proved to be a rare event. If only he'd thought to pack more underwear. His mother was right after all.
Harm continued to shave, although he knew his razors would eventually give out. He'd be growing beard in a month or two, and probably end up looking like a grizzled mountain man by the time they were rescued. Serendipitously, Mac had enough of her own personal supplies to last her about two months. After that, she didn't know what exactly she'd do about her cycle, but wouldn't stress over the issue until the time came. Hopefully, they'd be found by then. These were some of the concerns that Mac never would have considered relevant until she went through this ordeal. At the least, the whole experience was a learning process. Mac began to think a lot about what she really missed from civilization, and what stood out as most important were the people she left behind. Sure, she missed Taco Bell and long hot showers, but relationships were central in the big scope of things. Harm and Mac often discussed how their family and friends might be feeling about their missing status, not knowing if they were dead or alive. It was difficult to imagine how much worry and grief their misfortune might be causing others. It was a disturbing thought, but they were helplessly trapped on their island of rock and couldn't allow themselves to dwell along those lines very long.
In any case, their tropical survival challenge continued, with Harm and Mac counting the days and completing mundane tasks. They rationed matches and toiletries, hoping they wouldn't run out of anything essential. At least they knew how to start a fire without assistance if necessary. It was easier, however, just to keep the campfire going with dried wood and leaves. They didn't want to waste their valuable resources. For sustenance, they were still completely dependent on hunting for fish every day. There wasn't a lot of variety in their diet, but at least the seafood provided some protein and fat for their starved bodies.
Mac tried to keep up her appearance, but saw no point in being exactly proper around Harm. She wore her bikini when she wanted to, and gave little thought to covering up. Harm made a crack about her going topless outside of Australia, but she just ignored his commentary. Mostly, she tried to be comfortable and didn't concern herself with conventional decorum. They were on a deserted island, for goodness sakes! It was the stuff of romantic novels. But, in actuality, it was anything but romantic, given that she had to hike to collect water throughout the day, gut fish, and haul branches around during the rest of her time. If they could only find some more bottles on the beach to hold fresh water, their life would be so much easier. It turned out that the little things made such a big difference in their quality of life. Mac discovered a perfect example of this when, one afternoon, Harm sought her out at the camp with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
"It's Christmas time, Mac!" he said with a grin.
"What did you find?" Mac tried to reach around and grab whatever he was hiding behind his back, but Harm darted out of the way.
"You have to guess," he dangled enticingly, loving every minute of the suspense.
"A cup of steaming Starbuck's coffee?"
"No…"
"A family size carton of toilet paper?"
"No," he laughed.
"Oh, I know, some fish!" she said sardonically.
"Don't you wish…"
"Okay, I give…what is it?"
"Close your eyes," Harm directed.
Mac crossed her arms in refusal, but swiftly gave in with an eager smile on her face. As she stood there with eyes sealed shut, Harm walked around behind her and slipped tiny headphones over her ears. Instantly, the wonderful sounds of music enveloped her head. It was magnificent! She couldn't believe how amazing it was to hear musical entertainment again, having gone so long without that kind of stimulation. She took the earphones off for a second and turned around to face a smiling Harm, holding the MP3 player.
"Wow!" she exclaimed with excitement. "This is fantastic!"
"I know! I was fiddling around with it, and I finally got the batteries to work. It was supposed to be waterproof anyway. Who knows how many hours of play time we have left, but I think we should just enjoy it while we can." Harm handed her the rest of the equipment and said, "You go first."
"Maybe we can share," Mac said as she put the headset back in place, but pulled one side out slightly to reach Harm's ear. He leaned in to listen, but it was a lost cause.
"That's alright, Mac. You go ahead. I've had it for the walk down here anyway."
"Thanks," Mac said as she sat down and got comfortable, enraptured by the stereo effect on her deprived senses. The intense song and lyrics lifted her spirits. Harm had pretty good taste in music, Mac mused, as she drummed her hands to the beat. Mac thought she had died and gone to heaven.
Yes, Harm wasn't all that bad. Mac sighed in resignation. He was always just Harm….thoughtful, earnest, forever protective, hot and cold, out of reach, never in love…with her.