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“Maybe,” I answered with a shrug. I received another eye roll from Raine as she placed the hot vegetables and some dried fish on a couple of large clamshell plates and came around to sit next to me. We ate in relative silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortabl
e or anything. I’d smirk when she looked over to me and then she’d roll her eyes and eventually laugh.
After we ate, I relented and let her check out the cut on my leg. I decided it was probably doing well enough to go without the Lobelia poultice, which wasn’t a popular decision. Raine argued briefly, but I managed to talk her out of putting it back on for now by saying she could put it back on at night. I honestly didn’t know if it was healed up enough or not, but it didn’t look too bad, and trying to walk around was hard enough without that shit on me. I’d let her slather me up again before we went to sleep if she was going to insist on it. Besides, I didn’t want her wearing those stretchy shorts. I wanted her back in my boxers.
When I tried to stand back up from sitting down for so long, I didn’t do so well. I didn’t actually fall, but I didn’t get up on the first try, either. Raine came to my side and tried to help me again, but I didn’t want it. I wasn’t used to help like that and honestly, having her argue about putting the poultice shit on me was pushing it. If I could have reached it myself, I wouldn’t have let her do it at all.
“Cut that shit out!” I snarled at her as she tried to wrap her arm around my waist and help me balance.
“I’m just trying to help!”
“I know – cut that shit out! I don’t want any fucking help!”
She sighed and backed off. After another hour of stumbling in the sand, I stripped a sturdy limb off one of the trees and made myself a walking stick. I didn’t admit that I needed one or anything; I just said I liked having it.
Another eye roll.
I used the stick to lower myself down to the floor of the shelter and tried not to grimace as I put more pressure on my leg. Raine brought me some water to drink and then started weaving a bunch of fronds together. I looked over to the far side of the shelter and saw several things she had made, including four rectangular, flat mats, which you could probably sit on or place your food on to keep the sand away from it. There was a misshapen, short-sided, roundish basket on top of the mats, and it looked like Raine was trying to make another basket now. She had the bottom woven and was trying to curve a piece of coconut palm frond around to the side of the flat part to start the sides of the basket.
“The first one didn’t work out so well?” I inquired, feeling strangely timid about asking. Raine looked up at me and scowled as I pointed over to the misshapen basket.
“This is a lot harder than it looks,” Raine said but didn’t sound angry or anything. “I remember making baskets and such from art classes in school, but the material was all uniform and easier to work with. Trying to make these fronds into a square basket didn’t work at all.”
“That was supposed to be square?” I chuckled.
“Don’t push your luck,” Raine snapped but then smiled. “You know how to do everything. Can’t you weave a basket?”
“Never have,” I admitted, “but I think you are doing great!”
“Uh huh.” Raine shook her head and started weaving again.
“I’m going to start on the shelter again,” I told her.
“Not yet,” Raine said. Her tone was completely straightforward and dismissive. She wasn’t interested in hearing any arguments from me. I was going to argue anyway.
“I’m perfectly capable of doing shit, you know,” I snapped.
“Normally, of course you are,” Raine replied, “but you need to give yourself a chance to heal more. You might get sick again.”
“I’m not going to get sick again,” I said. “I’m also not going to fucking sit around watching you make shit while I do nothing.”
“Feel free to try your hand at weaving,” she said, pointing to the large stack of stripped fronds.
“Fuck that. I’m working on the fucking shelter.” I reached over for the walking stick and started to push myself up until Raine’s voice reached my ears again.
“Bastian?” I had to stop because her tone was no longer snippy or angry. When I looked back over my shoulder, I could see the beginning of tears in her eyes. “Please don’t. I know you want to, and I know you don’t like not being able to be physical, and I know you don’t want help, but you scared me when you were so sick. Please, please take it easy. Okay?”
Fuck me. Seeing those tears in her eyes made me want to drop down and give her anything and everything she wanted whether I wanted to or not. That pissed me off, but not at her, just at myself. I closed my eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before opening them again.
“Fine,” I grumbled, feeling like shit because I really didn’t mean to upset her. I pushed myself up from the ground using the walking stick and stepped out of the shelter. She had to sleep sometime – I could always work on shit then. I took a few steps out into the sand before sitting down next to the fire. I tossed a few little bits of sticks and debris into the coals and watched them flame up but bored of that quickly.
I wanted a fucking drink.
I looked out over the beach and noticed a dark spot close to the tide’s edge. It was the charcoal remains of the bonfire I had made before the fever hit. I could tell there weren’t any human remains lying around out there and wondered what happened to them.
“What did you do with them?” I asked, just loud enough for her to hear me.
“With what?”
