“Ok…” His breath hitching, he held his knees, trembling.
“You’re sick?”
“Yeah…”
“How sick?”
“I threw up…”
“That’s not good… not with this heat.”
Damian laughed softly. “It doesn’t matter. We will die anyway.”
“Not me.” Stubborn, his hate flaming up.
Damian shot him a mocking look. “Is that so, Robinson Crusoe?”
“Yeah. It’s just so. Because I am busting my ass already, and all you can do is sit and stare at the waves.”
“You told me to stay.”
Gabe just threw his hands in the air. “Sure! Whatever… I am not going to waste my breath on you… let’s find something to make a fire…”
Damian reached into his pants’ pocket and tossed him his reading glasses. They were broken, but a lens remained, cracked. “This might do. You know, when you burn ants in your backyard…”
Gabe picked them up, the horror plain on his face. “Burn ants?”
Damian smiled at him. “Yeah… I guess not something you did…”
“That’s insane… and cruel.”
“Whatever…” He swallowed that bout of nausea. “Just use them… they are broken, anyway.”
“Can you see without them?”
“Yeah… they are only for reading… I won’t need them here.”
Gabe took the glasses and started gathering some coconut husks, dried leaves, and twigs, making a small fireplace. Aiming that broken lens to the husk, waiting until a thin smoke appeared, his breath short.Ok. Wait. Don’t blow this…Waiting for those small flames… He blew on them softly, his eyes lighting up as the fire caught, licking those small branches. Blowing on them some more, careful, just lightly, until they were eating the wood, putting thicker ones on that small fire, making sure it wouldn’t die out under them as it gained strength.
“It worked!” A rush of warmth, almost feeling like howling. “Thanks!” He waved the glasses at Damian, and he just gave him a tired smile. “We can boil the water now! I’ve seen some old tin cans in that pile of junk. Just make sure it doesn’t go out, I’ll get them.”
He darted off and Damian crept closer to that birthing fire, blowing on it, putting on some more wood. Hazy memories of early camping trips floating in, when they had been young, in love, her growing belly filled with their first child. Pulling a face at it, trying to shut out what had followed. Watching Gabriel walk back, holding those tin cans he’d rinsed out in the sea.
“They are a bit old and rusty, but I guess that’s the least of our worries.” He made a makeshift stand and strung them up, pouring water into them, waiting until it frothed. “So far, so good… I can’t believe it was so easy, building that fire… thanks to your glasses.”
“Yeah…” Watching the flames, shivering despite the warmth.
“Here… it’s super hot…” Gabriel handed him one of the tins, and they blew that scorching water, impatient, drinking it with large gulps, even if that warm water tasted of rust and mud, it was pure heaven at that moment in that scorching heat. “We’ll boil more, little by little. I know where that puddle is, and hopefully, it will rain soon.” His eyes drifted to that blinding white sand. “We need to get away from the beach and build a shelter in the jungle.”
Damian just nodded, too sick to argue. And what for? They were as good as dead…let him think all this matters, his little plans…His mouth twisted into a sour smile, watching Gabriel skip around the fire, put more water on. Knowing he had to keep it down, so he bit his arm to quench that mounting nausea. Resting his forehead on his arms, closing his eyes.
Gabe filled the container with boiled water. “We’ll take the fire with us too…” Wrapping an old T-shirt on a stick, he lit it, hoping it would hold until they went deeper a bit. “Come… Can you walk?”
“I’ll try…” He got to his feet, swaying, but gritted his teeth and limped after Gabriel, watching him carry the torch like a treasure, that container swinging on his bare back.
An exhausting walk where he had to stop and throw up once, shivering, losing his balance as he struggled through the undergrowth, when they arrived at a small clearing.
Gabe put the container down and gave the torch to Damian. “Hold this. I’ll gather some wood.” Fast, he gathered dried wood, as much as he could, building a small pyre, and he lit it, watching the flames catch. “Ok… now… there are bamboos a bit further, we should chop as much as we can, build that shelter…” Watching with alarm how sick Damian looked, his cheeks sunken in, his eyes sitting in dark orbits. He might not make it… Putting that well-rehearsed smile on his face. “I’ll chop and you carry?”
