The water wasn’t chilly. I know chilly. The early November air that brushes your face first thing in the morning is chilly. The can of Sprite when you pull it from the refrigerator is chilly. The water in the shower before the hot side kicks in feels chilly.
The pool water wasfreezing. Stepping into the Cove felt like stepping into an ice bath, something I’d done once after an intense volleyball workout at the suggestion of our overzealous coach who thought ice baths were great for muscle recovery. I’d thought it was puretorture. And right now I was thinking my dreamy island bath with coconut soap would be the shortest one in history.
But the longer I sat in the icy water, the better I felt. I scrubbed my skin with the milky soap, feeling sand scour my skin, rubbing until my skin turned red and was tender to the touch. Until it feltclean.
Then I tackled my hair. I could feel the cut, and took pains to avoid it.
“You doing okay, Charley?” Thad called. “Still conscious?”
“Fine.”
“Let me know if you need help.” I heard the laughter in his voice.
“I’ve got it, thanks. You know, Ihavetaken a bath before, even though I may not have looked like it.”
Now Thad laughed out loud.
After I rinsed my hair, it felt like wet straw, and I knew it would be a nightmare to untangle without conditioner. Then I realized I didn’t even have a brush. But maybe Thad did. His handy satchel seemed full of tricks, like an island version of a magic hat.
I left the water, toweled off, and dressed quickly in the fresh clothes. Same material as before, only this time it was a halter top and a piece of cloth that I guessed was a skirt. No underwear.Does everyone here go commando?I wondered, wrapping the skirt around my waist. As I tied it tight, I laughed. It was shorter than the ones I was returning to Target, the crazy-short minis that had landed me here in the first place.
“What’s so funny?” Thad asked.
“I think Nil has a sense of humor,” I said as I gave my skirt a dirty look. “A twisted one.”
“You catch on fast.”
I looked back at the clothes I’d been wearing, wondering if Icould wear the shorts instead, but now that I was clean, I saw how filthy my old clothes—or rather, Kevin’s—were. Too yucky to be an option, that was for sure. The shorts were so grimy they made my island mini look good by comparison: a sad fact if there ever was one.
“Are you dressed yet? Clearly these trees are fascinating, but if you’re decent…” He trailed off.
“I’m decent.”Sort of, excluding my teeny mini. “You can turn around now.”
“How’re you feeling?” Thad’s eyes went straight to my legs.
Embarrassed.
“Better,” I said. “It feels great to be clean. Thanks for the help.”
“I didn’t help. But I offered, remember?” He grinned.
I groaned. “You know what I meant.”
He grinned wider.
Definitely dangerous.
Changing the subject, I said, “I take it there are cows on the island?” I pointed at my sandals. “And goats? And…” I hesitated, not wanting to sound like a looney tune. “Zebras?”
“Could be.” Thad shrugged. “We’ve got cows, chickens, goats, and for some reason, lots of cats. I’m not sure who made the sandals. Lately we’ve been focused on making more clothes. We’re low. We use paper trees.”
“Paper trees?”
“I’m sure there’s some proper botanical name, but no one here knows it. We use the bark, for paper and cloth. It’s not the easiest thing you’ve ever done, so we take care of the clothes we have because it’s tough to make more. There are grass skirts, too, but those don’t last long.”
“Grass skirts.” My voice was disbelieving. “Please don’t tell me there are coconut tops.”
Thad laughed. “Only if you want to wear them.”
