Page 12 of Uncharted Desires
“Huh, what?” he said, his head rising from the buoy.
“There are birds!” she exclaimed.
“So?”
“So? That’s a good thing,” she said, excitement lacing her tone. She scanned their surroundings frantically. It had to be around here somewhere, they had to be close. Somewhere on the horizon, it had to be here.
“There!” She pointed excitedly.
“Huh?” Weston squinted in the direction she was pointing. “Is that . . . ?”
“Yes, it is,” Kat said, a smile on her face.
“It’s fucking land!” he said, releasing the buoy.
Kat wiped the water from her face as Weston splashed on her in his excitement. He grabbed the buoy and whooped loudly.
“Thank god, we’re saved,” he yelled.
“Might just make me believe there is a god,” Kat said.
“You don’t believe in a higher power?” he asked her.
Shrugging, she looked around uneasily. It wasn’t a topic she especially loved discussing due to her upbringing in a very religious household after her parents had abandoned their true Indigenous teachings.
“I guess I believe there is something out there—a great creator, if you will—but I don’t buy into all the pomp and circumstance.”
“That’s fair,” he replied. “Me and my dad aren’t religious at all, but I went on that sabbatical with Buddhist monks in Thailand, which changed the way I see the universe and our place in it.”
Kat held back a sound of disgust. “Yeah, I remember, you came back all holier than thou with your new age meditation and wheat grass smoothies. Such rich kid shit.”
West started kicking toward shore, dragging her along. “What does that mean?”
“It means we can’t all just take off on a sabbatical for five months. Most of us have to work, have responsibilities.”
“I have plenty of responsibilities,” he said, his anger growing.
Kat shook her head, “It’s not the same and you know it.”
West balked at her statement as he continued to propel them to shore. “I don’t think you realize how much work I put in daily to keep everything running. My household, my music, my staff, I have a lot of people I work with.”
Kat rolled her eyes, “It’s still not the same as us peons going to work every day just to make sure we have a roof over our heads.”
“Because your job is so bad,” he said sarcastically.
As much as Kat wanted to argue her point, she was exhausted, hungry, and dehydrated. She wasn’t sure she could do much of anything, but they were so close to land and she was done poking at him.
“Whatever, Weston, I’m not saying you don’t work hard, I just don’t think you grasp how easy it is to live your lifestyle. Let’s just get to shore please.”
He squinted at the expanse of water between them and the land and let out a resigned sigh. “You’re right,” he said. “We can come back to my rich kid shit later.” He kicked harder, increasing their speed. Expending all her energy, Kat helped, kicking her legs as much as she could, her body screaming at her to stop.
“I sure hope this island has people on it,” he said.
What happened if it didn’t?
But she didn’t dare voice it aloud for fear she was right.
Five