RockFord Island

Chapter Nine

          As I gradually walk back to the beach, I do feel a little silly for impulsively running off like that. Now that I have somewhat calmed down, and have a clearer head, I am able to realize that it probably wasn't the best decision. Although, I don't beat myself up about it too bad. I have every right to be concerned. In fact, I think it would be very abnormal if I wasn't showing signs of fear and distress. Any typical person would react the same way if they were in my shoes. This leaves me to wonder more about Christina and Shawn, and their bizarre attitude towards the situation.

          When I'm about twelve yards or so from the beach, I stop and take another quick break. I peer over a set of ferns, watching discreetly as Shawn is now finishing up with the tents, and has another cigarette between his lips. Christina is still down by the shoreline, laying down by herself. I feel like I'm a young girl again in the school play. I was the lead role in high school, and on opening night, I was peeking through the curtains, looking at my mom and dad in the audience, along with hundreds of other parents and teachers. Just like that night, I'm nervous to walk back out to the beach—nervous about the unknown. But I know deep down that it has to be done. 

          As I reappear from the bushes, Shawn turns around, blowing out a trail of smoke. At first, he doesn't say anything, just watches me, as if I'm a deer passing by in the headlights. I come to a stop and stand before him.

          "Welcome back," he eventually says with another smirk. But this time it's a real smirk, a sincere one. None of that silly sarcasm, and appears to be acting like the old Shawn I know—the real Shawn.

          I respond with a simple, "Hi." I cross my arms and look away, kind of like an awkward middle school relationship. I'm still angry at him for the way he was acting before, but I guess I'm ready to try again if he's willing to cooperate.

          "So...now what?" I ask, confused.

           Shawn tosses the bag of tents beside the cooler. "Now we wait for that boat to pass by. It's our ticket off this island."

          I glance out to the horizon again, seeing nothing but water. However, Shawn did mention that the boat was coming around the corner, and he was elevated by the ridge, so part of me believes he is telling the truth. Of course, after the way he conducted himself, there is also a part of me that doesn't believe him.

          "Okay. Do you have any idea when it will be here?" I question.

          "Should be any minute. That's why I was so worried when you ran off like that."

          "Oh...yeah. Well...sorry about that." I can't tell if I'm actually trusting him, or if I'm just playing along without even realizing it. I think I may be in a state of shock.

           "It's alright." He looks back at me with another genuine expression. "I'm just happy that you're safe now."

          "Thank you. I—I'm glad you're okay, too, Shawn."

           He smiles at me authentically, then returns to smoking his cigarette. I don't know which side of him I can trust.

          In the meantime, I might as well lay down and rest. My legs are feeling like jello after all the worrying and stress. I kneel down and sit in a cross-legged position. It feels like we've been on this island, for what seems like, millions of years. When in reality, it has only been one day. Wait, millions of years? Isn't that a bit of an exaggeration...or is it?

          Regardless, I gaze around me, noticing different footprints in the sand. I try to look for a size that could resemble Oscar's, hoping that it'll leave a track as to where he's gone. But there are so many footprints from today, and the day before, that I give up within the first five seconds of searching. Poor Oscar. It feels like just yesterday I met him in the hospital. I was only three years old at the time—could barely even put my own shoes on, but I still vaguely remember holding him in my arms after my mother gave birth to him.