Page 26 of Restoration

“Well, this seems to be that.” I brush my hand lightly over the leaves of a plant with gorgeous purple flowers.

Edmund plucks one of the flowers and teasingly secures it behind my right ear.

I shake my head at him.

“What? Now you look like an appropriate tropical-island girl.”

I snort. “Maybe. But I draw the line at wearing a coconut-shell bra.”

Maybe it’s my imagination, but I swear his eyes dart down to my chest briefly before returning to my face. “Understood. No coconut bra for you. What about a grass skirt?”

“Only if we’re here for so long that our clothes fall apart. Then you’ll be wearing a grass skirt too.”

He laughs as we wander through the plants. I squeak when I see familiar shapes in the center of a plant with huge leaves.

Edmund comes over immediately. “Did you find something?”

“Bananas!”

I’m right. We inspect the fruit, and it is undeniably banana. Most of them are still green, but we find a couple that are almost yellow and break them off to try them.

Not quite ripe but definitely banana-tasting.

We find more banana plants and pick out a small bunch from one that’s closest to ripe to bring back with us. Farther in, we find what looks like fruit on another tree. We break it open to taste it, and it’s light green, bland, and faintly sweet.

Certainly edible.

“Well, we’ll be in good shape for food except for protein. Those bars should last us a while, but after they’re gone, we’ll need to find another source. Maybe some sort of shellfish or something? Crabs? I’d rather not eat bugs or the pretty birds.”

“Hopefully we’ll be found before we need to resort to bug or bird eating.” He sounds relaxed and amused.

He’s clearly not troubled by the clench of nerves that’s tightened in my gut and won’t go away.

No matter how he’s acted in his life, Edmund isn’t empty-headed or even particularly shallow. But he’s confident that we’ll be rescued.

A lot more confident than me.

***

WE EXPLORE FOR A COUPLEof hours and find absolutely no sign of inhabitants. Nothing but vegetation, odd rock formations, a wide variety of birds, and some small lizards that dart away from us immediately. We come across no mammals of any kind.

I’ve lost track of direction in the thickness of the trees, but Edmund seems to know which way to go to get back, so I follow his lead and am pleased to discover that he’s right.

When we return to our hut, we eat an early lunch of protein bar and banana. Then I suggest a dip in the ocean because I still feel sweaty and kind of itchy from our explorations.

I get out of the water before Edmund does, and while I’m drying off, I see him limping as he makes his way back up the sand. “What’s the matter?” I ask, immediately worried. “Did you twist an ankle?”

“Nah. I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You’re limping.”

After setting down my towel, I hurry over and crouch down to inspect his feet. There are a few cuts around the ankles like I have, but when I get him to lift up his left foot, I gasp when I see the underside.

He’s been going barefoot all this time, and the bottom of his foot is covered in gashes and abrasions.

“Edmund!”

“It’s fine.”