Their journey came to an end two days later. With supplies getting impossibly low and their love growing stronger, Harm and Mac had almost given up any expectation of a contact from the outside world. They went about life as usual on the island, hunting for fish and gathering resources, with one major exception: they also made top priority to passing long stretches of time in each other's arms. They engaged in endless foreplay and nearly made love countless times. Yet, while they were intimate, they did not take any more risks until the timing was right. They still enjoyed every minute of the discovery and wonder of each other, living like lovers, carefree and happy. They embraced the permanence of their love. The isle of rock and trees became their private tropical paradise.
Harm and Mac were so absorbed in their relationship that neither took notice when their ship of safety finally came in. It happened one morning while they were engaged in cheerful banter about sharing toothpaste. Mac had run out of hers; Harm was trying to barter for favors with his family size tube of Crest as leverage.
"Hey, I've been rationing mine. I can't help it if you used yours up too fast. Suck it up, Marine."
"Well, you wouldn't want me to get cavities, would you, Harm?" Mac said, as she practically batted her eyes.
"That's not my problem." Harm acted immune to her charm.
"Come on, one little blob on the end of my brush. That's all I ask," she pleaded with a pout. She knew Harm was fanatical about his dental hygiene, and it was actually asking a lot of him to give over his staple of germ-fighting, fluoride protecting gel. It was his lifeline.
Harm was demonstrating his stubborn brick wall imitation, and turned his back to her with a chuckle. He brushed his teeth with alacrity, and gave her a winning smile after he spit his toothpaste out.
"Okay, what do you want?" Mac leveled, hands on hips.
"Oh, just your soul…" Harm returned with a cocky grin.
"Hmmmm, I guess this means that you're not going to be able to kiss me any more…" She waited for his reaction. "Because without toothpaste, I can't come near that smug mouth of yours." Mac looked back at him with satisfaction. She knew she had him. Harm couldn't go without her kisses, since they were as essential to him as air, or life itself, for that matter.
With a look of chagrin, Harm stepped up to her and began to kiss her anyway, chiding her through brief pauses, "I'll give that sassy... mouth…. of yours…. a kiss…..whenever I want to….." He finished his brazen inundation with a token of his affection – a half-rolled tube of paste.
Mac was just about to receive his peace offering, when her hand stopped in mid-motion. Her jaw hung open, as she looked past Harm out into the beach. No words would fall from her mouth, as she pointed silently and brought her other hand to her chest. Harm felt an initial stab of worry, but when he followed her gaze out towards the ocean, all of the pieces fell into place. He was shocked by the sight of a boat, not 200 yards from shore, drifting in stillness, as if waiting patiently for their departure. The grip on his toothpaste loosened, and it slipped and dropped out of his hand unnoticed. Harm cleared his throat and suddenly came to life, yelling loudly, waving his arms in animation, and running out into the surf. He dove in the water and began to swim out to meet the vessel. Mac's breath caught, and she snapped out of her stupor. With gusto, she joined in with her own cries to signal the ship. By the time Harm had reached the half-way point, a bright orange flag could be seen waving above the hull of the boat. They had been seen. It was over. Mac could hardly believe her eyes. Forty-days and nearly forty-nights – that's how long they had been stranded on the island. It almost seemed biblical. In the end, it had been their Garden of Eden.
They left the island without a lot of fanfare, eager to shed the worst of their difficult existence. Yet, as they boarded their rescue boat and said their goodbyes, Harm felt a twinge of nostalgia for the place where they had created a home. Mac, too, felt a bit sentimental about their departure. So much had happened on that landmass. They had struggled for survival, and kept up hope amidst despair. They had learned to work and to play together, to risk and to love. Once lost from one another, Harm and Mac both knew that on the island, they had been found. With tacit understanding, Harm pulled Mac into his embrace on the deck of the boat, and shared a mixture of unspoken emotions with her as they watched the watery distance grow between them and their previous life. Everything would be different once they touched the mainland. They had changed and grown from the experience, but they had each other as a constant. Feelings of sadness and joy, calmness, and even satisfaction passed over them as they looked back on the island that had been their shelter and sustenance. As the land grew smaller, they gazed on what they were leaving behind – a place where their lives had finally crossed and woven together. We did it, Mac's heart surged with happiness. Harm was her rock now, and she, his compass. She knew they weren't going to become lost again.