the ISLE

Call Me Jack

The following days passed slowly as she seemed to be in a mourning period for her child, eating very little and not speaking at all. Lantern was becoming increasingly worried over her mental state and the fact that any day now the Hunters could show up to reclaim their lost property. As much as he hated to admit it, they had to leave the cave and find a new place to seek shelter.

Jack took to getting up early, spending several hours each day catching enough fish and wildfowl to last the two of them for some time. Smoking was the best chance to preserve the meat, as he planned to leave the morning of the fourth day. The longer they stayed here, the greater the risk of discovery and he had the feeling they must be gone from this place. His companion picked up on the change because she began focusing her energies on preparing their things for travel, even making water pouches from cured bird skins.

When Lantern got back to the cave entrance in the late afternoon of the third day, she had hot coals roasting different types of fruit along with what could be roots. They looked unappetizing, but the smell was intriguing. Leaning in close as she took the catch of fish from him, he studied the sizzling bounty skeptically.

"I'm not convinced about the roots, but the fruit looks good." He spoke aloud more for her to hear his voice than his expecting any response. Pointing to the root things, he kept a doubtful expression on his face. "Are we going to eat that?"

"My mother used to prepare them this way. They are good." Half-smiling, she pointed to her stomach. They were the first words she had spoken since the birth of her son and to see her shy smile warmed his heart.

"I guess I'll have to try them to know for sure." He smiled at her in return.

Though Jack knew virtually nothing about her, his companion had grown on him. He had become accustomed to seeing her face, having her scent hanging in the air wherever she moved. Even at night as they slept, the steady soft sounds of her breathing brought comfort to him. They were each alone, but together, trying to reconcile with bitter loss and sorrow.

By the time of the afternoon showers, the meat was set out on palm leaves in the cave, drying. Waiting out the rain, she was quietly replacing the vine nets with a large woven basket of supple fibers stripped from the trees. Lantern was sharpening the tips of the spears and whetting the blade of his knife. Having repeatedly checked the points on his compass in comparison to where he wanted to go he roughly knew how to get there. By his reckoning, it would take many days, and they would travel farther than he had yet been on his own, but he was confident in his decision.

From the summit of L'eau du Lac Bleu, he recalled seeing what appeared to be a small river running along the base of the western mountain slopes. It wove in and out of view among the distant peaks then seemed to vanish, glimmering like a thin diamond bracelet in the distance before disappearing. Lantern felt positive that the point where the river disappeared underground would prove to be a shelter for them. In his travels to the west, he had never come across even a hint of human habitation, though in the far distance, he had spotted the hunting parties of the native village to the north.

His train of thought was broken by the shadow of his companion standing over him. When he looked up, she was holding out what could be a pair of boots, but they were made of cured skin and laced with strips of sinew.

"For me?" His smile was genuine. "Thank you. I was wondering how I'd handle the terrain barefooted."

Standing quietly, she watched him look over her handiwork. She was waiting for him to try them on so she would know if there were adjustments needed. Guessing his measurements from the tracks in the sand was unwise at best, but there was still time to fix them if he would stop staring and put them on. She could tell from his actions over the last few days that he was thinking of leaving this place and fully supported that decision. It was only a matter of time before they came looking for her, and once they figured the baby was born she would no longer be safe.