A James Conrad Story (complete)

Chapter 12: Stay Safe

Grace's POV

I wake up to the faint sound of music playing from outside my shelter. I stretch my aching limbs and slowly sit up. The morning sun shining through the opening fabric, the breeze blowing against the chimes outside creating beautiful, catastrophic noise.

I look around to see not even a soul in the tipi making it my cue to leave. The sky was clear, light blue painted through the horizon as the aboriginal people scurry off and focus on their own task.

I turn to look towards the edge of the dock and see what's left of the mission team working on a raggedy old boat. Probably over at least 20 years old.

I limp over towards the crew and sit myself down watching them.

"AY look who decided to join us" I hear Slivko say as he pops out from under the control panel in the boat.

"Oh, you little rascal you know why I needed to sleep in" raising my eyebrows mischievously at him while his face turns red.

"I swear it's not what it looks like," He says shaking his head directing his actions at Conrad. We all start bursting into laughter and I wipe away a tear that slipped through my eye.

"Calm down, Slivko," I say standing up again and walking over towards the boat.

"Hello ma'am, the name's Lieutenant Hank Marlow," the stranger says to me saluting. He was wearing an old uniform that soldiers from the olden times worn. His beard has recently been groomed, depending on the person, a beard would take two to six years to fully grow. Therefore, he hasn't really maintained himself until now, he probably used a knife to cut his beard due to the uneven cut also indicating he hasn't done it in a long time. Ashamed of the man underneath, perhaps? The loss of energy and spark in his appearance gives away his lost hope, the dark circle under his eyes and the wrinkles on his skin indicate he has probably been in this state for many years now. He is probably around the age 50 - 60, he also says he is a Lieutenant so he probably crashed here during a war. The Vietnam war is too recent for him to be stranded here for that long and the last war we had was World War II.

"Have you really been here for twenty-five-" His response of sadness shows that I am slightly off

"Twenty...eight"

Bingo Bongo

"Years?" I continue speaking and studying him. He looks at me with remorse in his eyes as he thinks about the years he has been on the island.

"How do you know?" He asks me cautiously

"It's written all over your face, my dear sir" I reply pitying him a little. He doesn't reply but his hand grips slightly showing that he was holding something very dearly to him. He looks away towards the lake and I can see his eyes turn slightly glossy.

I walk towards him and cup his hand that was holding the paper object.

"Wife?" I ask quietly. He nods his hand and loosens his grip. I slowly open his hand to show an old scratched picture of a beautiful woman.

"She's very lovely," I say looking at him with soft eyes. He looks back at me in return and I can see desperation and conflict in his eyes. The memories he tries to hide and push back. The brave face he makes in order to face his life.

"Hey, we're gonna get off this damn island and make sure you're not celebrating your 30th year here alright?" I say looking at him sincerely. He nods his head vigorously his emotions still taking control of him. I hug him and pat him on the back.

"All emotional now are we" he replies

"Ay that's the man I do not know" I joke back punching him playfully in the shoulder