Chapter Three #4
Carrying an armload of wood, he returned to where Brian sat, the sand becoming uncomfortably hot. Troy slipped on the flip-flops. Brian had taken off his dress shoes and socks, and poked through his suitcase.
“This is as good a place as any, I guess?” Troy asked.
“I think so.” Brian motioned to the trees about fifteen feet away. “Far enough that we won’t risk a forest fire, but still away from the tide. Here, let me help.”
Troy wanted to say no but had a feeling Brian would protest more strongly this time. “I’ll bring the wood, and you can arrange it. Do you know anything about making fires?”
“We went camping most summers when I was growing up. I was a Boy Scout too.” He half smiled. “Pretty sure I got my fire badge. I’ll dig a pit.”
Once they had a good pile of wood and palm fronds in their shallow pit, Brian got out the magnifying glass. The sun was clear of the trees now, bright and powerful.
“Let’s try this. Save the matches.” Biting his lip, he held out the glass, moving it until he was satisfied with the angle.
They knelt there, watching and waiting.
And waiting.
And waiting.
“Maybe we should use a match,” Troy whispered. It felt like if he spoke too loudly, he’d somehow jinx the fire.
“One more minute. I think it’s close.”
It was more like five minutes, but finally a thin line of smoke rose from the pile of fronds. It was barely anything at all, but slowly it thickened. Then, with a soft whoomp, the dry leaves ignited.
“Yes!” Troy pumped his fist.
With a grin, Brian kept the glass steady and leaned over to blow gently on the burgeoning flames. They watched as the fire spread, finally catching the wood and not just the palm leaves. Gray smoke trailed into the sky, and Troy said a quick prayer that it would be spotted soon.
A swell of optimism filled him. Maybe they’d be rescued in a few days! Sure, they were a needle in a haystack, but the sky was so clear someone would see the smoke. They could have a nice shower and hot meal, sleep in comfy beds. He watched the smoke and daydreamed.
Then his stomach growled.
Right. Not rescued yet. They needed to try fishing. And maybe… Troy gazed at the brown lumps scattered near the tree line and went to grab one, turning it over in his hands, the husk dry and rough on his skin. “Hungry?” he asked Brian.
Brian glanced up, poking the fire with a stick. “Oh, good. You know how to open one?”
“No clue. You?”
“Uh-uh. I’ve drunk coconut milk and eaten macaroons, but I’ve never bought an actual coconut.”
“Me either. I’ve never really cooked. I can heat stuff and make toast or whatever. But my mom still brings us a ton of food when we’re home, and on the road we have catering for…well, for everything.” He’d wanted to take control of his life, and here was his chance. He would feed himself, damn it.
The good thing about coconuts was that they appeared to be plentiful on the island. The bad thing about coconuts was getting the freaking things open. Even with the knife, Troy had a feeling he was more likely to lose a finger than get inside to the milk and juicy flesh.
He hefted the coconut and shook it. There was definitely liquid sloshing around inside, which he assumed was a good sign. On one end of the coconut, there were three little indentations. “I guess this is the top? Or the bottom.”
Turning the fruit, he found a natural seam around the middle and poked at it.
He gently dug in the knife and tried to cut.
No dice. The knife sawed through a bit of the husk, but he had to use all his strength just to make a tiny bit of progress.
“Man. This is hard. Maybe I should try to peel the brown stuff off?”
“Can’t hurt.” Brian shifted logs around. “I think you can crack coconuts? In half.”
“Like, with a rock or something?”
“Worth a try.”
Troy peeled off as much as the husk as he could.
The coconut was a pale brown now, with the three distinctive dents on one end, presumably from where it had been attached to the tree.
He found a good-sized rock just inside the jungle.
After propping up the coconut in the sand, he raised the rock.
“Here goes nothing.” He slammed it down, aiming for the seam.
Nothing.
Grunting, he tried again.
Nothing.
Just when he was ready to accept defeat a few minutes later, the coconut gave way an inch.
“I think I’m getting somewhere,” he muttered.
Yes, there was definitely an opened crack.
He turned the coconut a bit and hit it again.
Using the knife, he tried to pry it open.
“Jesus, this thing is tough.” He cracked it again and pried.
“Holy shit!” The coconut split neatly in half, splashing his hands with pale liquid.
Quickly, he held up both sides so no more would spill.
“Nicely done!” Brian grinned.
It didn’t smell particularly inviting. Not sweet, like he’d expected. “I guess this is coconut milk? Looks more like water. Oh, that’s a thing too, isn’t it? Coconut water.”
“I guess we should try it.” Brian took half the coconut and sipped. He screwed up his nose. “Ugh. Kind of tastes like… I don’t know what.”
Troy sipped from his half shell, grimacing. “Dirty water?”
Brian laughed, a low rumble that somehow eased the sharp edges of tension in Troy’s chest. Troy found himself smiling, wanting to hear that laugh again.
“Well, we know it’s locally sourced,” Troy said. “Totally organic. Could probably make a fortune selling these at Whole Foods.”
Brian did laugh again, his shoulders rising and falling and a smile tugging his lips. “Sounds about right. They probably add a shit ton of sugar to the bottled coconut water. But the meat inside doesn’t look rotten, and it smells okay. I think it’s fine. There are nutrients, so we should drink it.”
Troy took another mouthful, grateful most of it had splashed out. Using the knife, he awkwardly carved out some of the white meat and passed that side of the coconut to Brian, taking Brian’s half and carving it up too.
Brian waited until he was finished to put a chunk into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. “It tastes like…”
After chewing his own piece, Troy said, “Soap?”
That low, deep laughter was music to Troy’s ears. Brian took another bite. “It’s not terrible, though. Maybe if we cook some later, it’ll taste better.”
“At least it’s fattening. Lots of calories in coconut. It’s on my trainer’s list of fruits I’m not even allowed to look at.” Troy ate a bit more and read the instructions on the signaling mirror. “Hopefully we’ll only be here a few days, and then we can have our coconut with sugar again.”
“Yeah.” Brian bent his head and ate more, the laughter gone.
Troy gazed out to sea, shielding his eyes with his hand. All he could see was a world of blue, broken only by the distant horizon.