Chapter 26
I’m ankle-deep in the sea, holding a sharp stick, waiting for a fish. Has it really come to this?
Ozzy presses himself up behind me, holding my arms, guiding me. You know, in the movies, that sexy way guys teach girls how to play pool by essentially dry-humping them? Well, we’re doing that, just, you know, to stab a fish. What could be sexier?
He slides his hands over mine to reposition them on the spear.
‘Get a nice, firm grip on the shaft,’ he tells me.
That had to have been on purpose.
‘Okay,’ I say, pretending I didn’t notice.
‘It’s all about the way you move,’ he continues. ‘It’s in the stance, the hips – bend forward, just a little.’
He’s either making this sexy or I’ve had too much sun.
I narrow my eyes, scanning the water for fish, trying to play it cool, but my heart is pounding.
‘You don’t have to teach me, you know,’ I say. ‘I’m happy to just watch you. You’re so good at it.’
‘Ah, but what if I wasn’t here?’ he replies. ‘What would you do for food?’
‘A good point, but I don’t plan on ever getting into a situation like this again,’ I counter.
‘And here’s me thinking I could invite you on my next adventure,’ he says. I can hear him grinning.
‘Oh, absolutely,’ I say sarcastically. ‘We could do Naked and Afraid together. I’m already afraid.’
‘It wouldn’t take us long to get naked,’ he whispers into my ear.
‘Ew, what are you two doing?’ Camilla asks, joining us.
‘What does it look like?’ I call back. ‘We’re fishing.’
‘Not that,’ she replies. ‘Anyway, Honey is doing my head in. She’s boiling water, but I want to look for my crystal, but she won’t help – will you guys help?’
‘We’re catching dinner,’ Ozzy tells her. ‘You know, so we can eat. Seeing as though most of the fruit we had to hand got infested, and fish are pretty much the only form of protein we have.’
‘Really? Because it looks more like you’re getting it on in the sea,’ she replies.
‘I wish,’ Ozzy jokes quietly. I give him a playful nudge with my elbow.
He really is teaching me to fish – but I don’t suppose it needed to involve us getting so up close and personal.
‘Ow,’ he says. ‘Ow, ow, ow – oh God, oh God. Shit!’
‘Oh my gosh, have I hurt you?’ I blurt. I didn’t do it that hard, and the man is carved from stone, for crying out loud.
‘Shit, shit, shit,’ he continues. ‘Fuck!’
Whatever has happened to him, it’s really hurt him, and it only seems like the pain is getting worse.
He hurries out of the water and drops onto the sand. He rolls around on his back – it looks like he’s trying to grab his foot.
‘Jellyfish…’ he says, although it sounds more like he’s using his breath than his voice. ‘Stung… jellyfish…’
He can hardly get his words out. His face is bright red, the veins are bulging in his neck, looking like they might explode. I have no idea how painful a jellyfish sting is but, if it can take down a man mountain like Ozzy, it must be really bad.
‘Shit, what do we do?’ I ask Camilla. Not that I’m expecting her to know.
She probably has someone on her team who takes care of jellyfish for her, so it never comes up, never ruins her picture-perfect, mega-expensive holidays – the ones, if her Instagram is anything to go by, she goes on about twenty-five times a year.
‘Okay, I think I know what to do,’ she says – and she sounds like she means it.
‘In that movie with that woman… You know the one, she’s got red hair, I think she was married to, oh, what’s his name, from…
it doesn’t matter. Anyway, what I saw them do, and it worked…
you’re supposed to… ugh, I can’t believe I’m saying this… you’re supposed to urinate on it.’
Oh. Oh, no. She wants one of us to… oh boy.
Oh, shit… Now that I think about it, I think I’ve heard that before too.
Actually, I think I saw it in an episode of Friends.
You can’t take medical advice from Friends, can you?
It’s not like it’s… Scrubs… or like you should take advice from sitcoms at all.
Camilla says she saw it in a movie – is that more or less reliable than a TV show?
Ozzy groans dramatically.
‘Help…’ he says weakly. ‘Heeeelp… heeeelp…’
His voice loses strength with each word he calls out.
‘Aren’t you going to do it?’ Camilla says. ‘The man needs help.’
‘Heeelp…’ Ozzy moans right on cue.
‘I literally went to the outhouse just before we started fishing,’ I tell her quietly. ‘I couldn’t do it if I wanted to.’
And I really don’t want to, I’m sure that goes without saying.
‘Well, I’m not doing it,’ Camilla announces. ‘Absolutely not. Not a chance.’
‘Help…’ Ozzy says again. His body is stiff, his eyes bulging, the veins on his neck throbbing even faster than they were before.
He really does need someone to do something, and fast. I wish Lockie were here, perhaps he’d know what to do – I’m sure, logistically, he’d find it a lot easier to pee on Ozzy’s foot too.
‘Absolutely not,’ Camilla doubles down. ‘The therapy I’d need…’
Just as I’m wondering whether it’s worth me trying, at least, seeing if I can get anything going – although how much do you need? A little isn’t going to cut it, is it? – Honey comes running down the beach, to see what all the commotion is.
‘What’s happened?’ she asks genuinely. ‘Can I help at all?’
‘Oh, this is your girl right here,’ Camilla insists. ‘I’ll hazard a guess it’s not her first time doing this… so… I’ll leave you all to it.’
‘Jellyfish,’ Ozzy pants at Honey. ‘Stung… foot… help…’
‘Right, okay, I know what to do,’ Honey says calmly.
‘I cannot watch this,’ Camilla declares, before heading back to camp. ‘I’m sure some people would pay to, but not me…’
Her rant fades to silence as she walks off. She wasn’t being much help anyway.
Honey empties out one of our water flasks and then fills it with seawater.
She’s quick but calm, a woman on a mission.
She pours it over Ozzy’s foot before filling it again, pouring again, filling again – always with seawater.
I’m yet to see her even think about peeing on him.
Then she examines the sting on his foot, using a shell to flick off any bits that might be on it, and then rinsing it again.
‘Okay, there’s nothing there now,’ she tells him, giving his leg a reassuring squeeze. ‘You got away clean. No bits stuck to you. You’re going to be all right.’
Whatever she did must have helped, because Ozzy is breathing more normally, and his face is slowly fading back to its usual colour. He can form whole sentences too.
‘Oh my God, thank you so much, Honey,’ he tells her. ‘You… you saved the day.’
‘You’re lucky she came,’ I tell him. ‘Camilla wanted us to pee on you – well, she wanted me to. I’d be making a mental note, of who did and didn’t want to pee on me in a crisis. That girl is just not a team player.’
Ozzy manages a laugh and I feel relieved. I mean, come on, we’ve all been relying on him for so much. What would we do without him? My fishing lesson was more about dry-humping than it was actually fishing, I’m not ready to take responsibility for those duties yet.
‘That actually makes it worse,’ Honey says immediately. ‘You’re supposed to rinse with seawater, then soak in warm water. It breaks down the venom. I think I picked it up from some boring nature documentary my ex used to watch.’
‘Thank God you did,’ I reply. Then I notice something. ‘Do jellyfish stings make your toes go blue?’
‘Oh, no, that’s from when I dropped the hammer on them,’ Ozzy says. ‘It’s the same foot.’
I don’t know if it being the same foot makes it better or worse.
‘Ouch,’ I reply, wincing. ‘I don’t know how you didn’t cry then, and I don’t know how you’re not crying now. I’m almost in tears just from spectating.’
‘Well, it’s not good for men to cry, is it?’ he says as we help him limp up the beach, back to camp. ‘Especially not in tough times.’
‘It absolutely is good for men to cry,’ I insist.
I’m surprised he said that but, then again, other than anger and frustration, he hasn’t been all that emotional.
‘Why wouldn’t it be good for a man to cry?’ Honey asks. ‘It’s normal.’
‘It shows weakness,’ Ozzy tells us. ‘You guys need me strong, not soft.’
‘No, we just need you,’ I tell him.
‘It’s good for everyone to cry,’ Honey insists. ‘Boys, girls, whatever. If you bottle it up then you explode eventually. And it doesn’t always come at the most opportune times. You need that slow release, not catastrophic malfunction.’
‘I’ll risk it,’ he replies with a chuckle.
I smile, but we’re not wrong. He would do well to let it all out, now and then, just to regulate his brain.
‘Hey, Cleo, thanks for not peeing on me, by the way,’ Ozzy tells me.
‘Ah, there’s always next time,’ I joke. ‘But, yeah, you’re welcome. Thanks for not needing peeing on.’
He laughs. This is definitely a conversation I don’t think either of us ever imagined having.
Back at the firepit, Tony and Camilla are piling up coconuts.
‘I thought we could cut some open, drink them, like we’re on a fancy holiday,’ Tony suggests.
‘Sounds great,’ I reply.
Honey takes a pot of water from over the fire and adds cooler water to bring the temp down.
‘Sit with your foot in here for a bit,’ she tells Ozzy.
He lowers his foot in and exhales.
‘That feels loads better already,’ he tells her.
‘Helloooo,’ Lockie calls excitedly as he emerges from the jungle carrying a large wooden crate.
Ozzy perks up.
‘Please tell me it’s survival gear,’ he says.
‘Even better,’ Lockie says with a grin.
He crouches by the firepit and sets the crate down with a thud. Then he pops the lid off.
Bottles. Dozens of them. Dark glass, dusty, with chunky corks and battered labels.
‘Rum!’ Lockie announces proudly.
Without missing a beat, Ozzy grabs a bottle, rips the cork out with his teeth and takes three big gulps, like it’s water.
‘It’s a natural painkiller,’ he says when he finally breathes again.
‘What pain are you in?’ Lockie asks.
‘Long story,’ I say. ‘I’ll tell you later.’
Lockie wipes his hands on his shorts.
‘I got the hatch door open. Looks like the next delivery was booze – probably a reward for some challenge we never got to.’
Tony picks up a bottle and examines it.
‘May as well drink it then,’ he says. ‘Make a night of it.’
‘The show must go on, right?’ Lockie replies.
‘Great idea,’ Honey says. ‘Let’s eat and drink and, I dunno, play some island games or something.’
Lockie takes the open bottle from Ozzy and raises it.
‘To surviving,’ he says. ‘And to whatever happens next.’
We all toast.
I look around the fire, at our weird little group, and smile. It’s about time we had some fun, somewhere, in all this stress.
What’s one night off from the end of the world?