Page 19 of Restoration
“No! I understand your job is harder than mine, but you’re also six inches taller than me and a lot stronger. And still I’m managing to work in relative silence.”
“You really think you’re being silent right now?”
“No, not right now!” I’m so frustrated I want to scream, but I manage to tamp down the urge. “Right now we’re having a discussion!”
“Right now you’re biting my head off for no reason. Do you want to do this or not?”
“Yes, I want to do this! We’ve got to have some sort of shelter, or we’re not going to make it very long. Of course we need to do this.”
“So let’s do it.” He leans over again to get in position and eyes me impatiently.
I want to scream again—not least because he’s managing to be rational and arrogant while it feels like I’m about to fall apart. I use the last of my restraint to bite back another retort and stretch down to get a secure grip.
“Now,” he mutters, and I pull at the same time he pushes.
We make more sluggish progress. He must be attempting to refrain from the grunting because he’s quieter than he was before. It makes me feel guilty and petty. Why the hell did I lash out at him when he wasn’t doing anything wrong?
“I’m sorry,” I say on a taken breath. The apology comes without context or segue.
He evidently understands what I’m referring to anyway. “Don’t worry about it.”
He means it. I know he does. I suddenly want to cry for no good reason.
Instead, I focus on the motion of my body and fall into a weird sort of trance that’s made up of nothing but our coordinated heaves and each step I take on the loose sand.
I have no idea how long the trance lasts, but when I finally wake up from it, we’ve almost made it to our destination.
“Right here,” I gasp. “Where it’s flat and more secure from the tree roots.”
With a few final surges of effort, we get the large piece of boat into position with the opening toward the east so it won’t get the wind off the ocean or the full blast of the hot afternoon sun.
When we’re satisfied it’s stable, we both collapse on the sand beside it by mutual accord.
“That... that was... hell.” Edmund is stretched out his full length. He has a damp spot on the front of his shirt, and there’s sweat trickling down the sides of his face.
I’m likely in worse shape than he is. “That’s for sure. But hopefully it will be worth it. There’s no way we could ever find or build a better shelter than this.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I know. It was smart thinking.”
He means that as a compliment to me since it was my idea, and both of us know it. I manage a little smile at him. “And you handled most of the weight. So thank you for that.”
We fall into a more agreeable silence, and it’s several minutes before I feel capable of moving again. When I can, I go to the stream to cup more water to drink and splash on my face. Edmund has gotten up too and is doing the same while I start to investigate the inside of the section of boat to figure out how to clear it out.
It’s the very end of the bow, so there’s a curve in the bottom and it narrows down into a peak in the back. I start pulling out the loose debris that hasn’t already fallen out, and when Edmund comes back, he starts breaking off the attached pieces of wood from walls and shelves.
It doesn’t take as much physical exertion as getting it into place, but it still takes a while to clean out the interior until it’s basically a small, oddly shaped room where we can both sit or sleep or seek shelter.
I’m brushing out the last of the sand with Edmund’s overshirt, which he took off during the dragging session. He’s crouched down and peering in at me.
“This should work pretty good, shouldn’t it?” I ask him.
“Yeah. It’ll be great even if we have to wait a few days for them to find us.”
I’m not nearly as confident as he is that we’re going to be found, but he’s back to his typical warm, pleasant mood, so I hate to bring him down again.
I crawl back out and scowl up at the sun, which is high in the sky now and shining like its life depends on it. “Why does it have to be so hot?”
“Unfortunately, I’d say that’s probably the norm here.”