Island
Somewhere in the Caribbean Sea
His eyes fluttered before they opened.
First looking straight up through a palm trees. Squinting from the brightness. He started to look around before he attempted to lift his head or move his body. He saw a blanket over to one side like a make shift wall. Then turning his head slowly in the opposite direction, a small fire pit with stones around it and bits of wood inside the circle but not burnt. No fire had been lit there. He noticed a jug beside him. Some dry palm leaves had been used to make a makeshift bed beside him as well. He was confused by what he saw and terribly disoriented. He tried propping himself up on one elbow. It was laborious. He was stiff. How long had he been lying there? It must be a long time because his muscles ached from lying in the same place for so long. He was weak. What had happened? Where was he? How did he get there? Who was with him?
He scanned the beach, in his vision he began to see a woman sitting by an open trunk looking at its contents. Her back was to him. She seemed to be speaking to herself. Then he scanned the rest of the cove and his eyes landed on the shipwreck just offshore, wedged against a rock mass. His memory came back to him. The storm. The ship hitting the rock mass. The panic. The screaming. Children crying. The peril. It all came flooding back.
He saw no other movement around him as he lay there. Only her. He started to understand that perhaps they were the sole survives, no one else. Was it she that had nursed him? Looked after him? She was a lady on the ship. One of the elite. Exceptionally beautiful.
His comprehension grew realizing further what was going on around him. This woman had been reduced to looking after a sailor? The thought embarrassed him. He could only imagine what she had been through. How many days had he been there? Had 'they' been there? He had become weak and tried to get up but found himself needing to do that very slowly. He was stiff and not sure footed. Sea legs in the worse way. He managed it though.
Hannah was talking to herself. Facing him now but hidden from sight by the large open lid of the trunk, "Look at these beautiful dresses and linen. How wonderful? I am sure that I can salvage all of these."
"Do you need any help?" He asked her standing behind the lid of the trunk.
She jumped backwards with a fright and landed on her backside. At the same moment she screamed, "OH SAMUEL!"
'Samuel?' He said to himself. 'Who is that?'
"I am sorry I startled you." He said stepping back.
Hannah just stared up at him. His immense body shaded her from the sunlight. He looked like a giant, nine feet tall. Menacing.....maybe she would have to change his name to Goliath. She couldn't see his face for the sun shining in her eyes.
'My he did not look, that big lying down.' Hannah thought.
All of a sudden, in a flash, the dynamics had changed. She had been alone for days on end. Entertaining herself, taking care of him, fetching water, picking berries, arranging the contents of trunks that had washed ashore. She occupied herself and filled the time. She had conversations with him, that he did not hear. She had conversations with herself. Becoming more and more comfortable with him, his presence and proximity, with her. Now he was there, alive and talking. Everything would change again.
Questions flew through her mind instantaneously. Was he amiable? Was she in danger with him? What would he do to her? They were complete strangers. Alone on this island. What would become of her? What would become of them? Now she had to start speaking to him. Was she a passenger and he was a member of the crew? Was she Mrs. Chamberlain, the wife of a powerfully rich man in the United States? Was she reduced to nothing? Like a baby? What was going to happen? Was he going to lord his position over her? She felt more frightened now than before when she was virtually alone.
