“Just grab it by the tits.”
“That’steats.”Margaret jabbed her elbow into his ribs.
“Hell, Smitty.” He scowled at her. “It’s the same thing.”
She leaned closer and whispered, “You’re talking to an eleven-year-old girl.”
“Yeah, well she’s gonna have ’em someday. She might as well know what they’re called.”
Margaret looked down, her hand rubbing the throbbing spot between her eyebrows.
“Nothing’s coming out.” Lydia frowned up at them for answers.
Hank hunkered down and reached out toward the udder. The goat turned its head and bleated in his ear.
“Damn!” He sat back in the sand and clapped a hand over his ear. The goat trotted down the beach until it found some new kelp to nibble on.
Margaret put her arm around Lydia’s shoulders, and the girl stepped away, her head down.
“I don’t think she wants to be milked right now, Lydia. Would you go keep an eye on Theodore and see that he doesn’t get too close to the water?”
Lydia nodded and ran off.
She took a deep breath and turned back to Hank. “You can’t talk that way to a little girl.”
He sat in the sand, his wrists resting on his splayed knees. “What way?”
“So... hard. She’s just lost her mother and father, been through the trauma of a shipwreck, and now here with us—two strangers. She must be scared to death.”
“Yeah, well, she’ll get over it.”
“You have the sensitivity of a rock.”
“You think so, Smitty? Let me tell you something. Sensitivity and a nickel will get you a cup of coffee.” He stood up and swaggered over toward the trunks and barrels.
She leaned against the rough armored trunk of a tall coconut palm and watched him lug another trunk over and drop it with the other supplies. “You are making our situation difficult and it doesn’t have to be.”
“You’re right. Things can be easy. Just be quiet and do what I say.” He turned around and strode down the beach.
The urge to throw something at him, something big like the trunk, came over her so swiftly she just stood there. By the time he dragged two more trunks over, she decided to change strategy. “Give me five good reasons why we should make camp here, instead of there.” She pointed to the lovely, peaceful spot she’d suggested, which was hidden from the shore by a cluster of rocks, yet one could see the lagoon.
It was a spot that in addition to being attractive took the best advantage of the island’s closest resources. Her location was near a stream of fresh water and a rock pool that was fed by a waterfall directly behind a grove of hibiscus bushes, a few banana plants, and two mimosa trees. The sound of rushing water was peaceful and idyllic, and they would have easy access to water and food.
Her plan was based on simple logistics. She’d spent quite a bit of time analyzing their situation while Hank had maneuvered the trunks, lifeboat, and what supplies they could salvage to the edge of the lagoon. She had a well-thought-out plan with the best and most sensible conclusion. It made perfect sense.
He looked at her, then shook his head. “You never give up, do you?”
“Changing the subject isn’t going to work.” “What will?”
“Answering me.” She repeated her challenge. “Give me five reasons why we should settle here.”
“Okay. Number one.” He waved his thumb in front of her face. “Because I said.
She rolled her eyes.
“Number two.” He raised his index finger. “Because I have experience in surviving.”
She’d give him that one.
