Chapter 11
The motorboat ride back to our beach feels longer than usual.
It’s never fun to lose a challenge, but this time is especially nerve-wracking because there are so many unknowns.
Had the tribe switch not happened, we all would have voted out Jing, barring some sort of miracle on her part.
But now, with both the tribe switch and the idol, there are way more possibilities to consider, and I have a feeling this afternoon is going to be much more stressful than it might have otherwise been.
Of course, that was probably the reason the producers decided to shake things up in the first place. It may be terrible for us, but I’m sure it’s great viewing for the audience back home.
But before we can get to the drama, we need to do some housekeeping, so as soon as we get off the motorboat, the six of us gather together in front of the shelter so we can introduce ourselves to our new tribemates.
Katie, Marina, Rhonda, and I go first, briefly telling the newcomers where we’re from and what we do for a living.
Then it’s Juan’s turn. “It’s nice to meet you all,” he says. He looks maybe forty years old, with short black hair and a matching mustache, and he has a tattoo of a dragon running down his back. “I’m from Arizona, and I’m a construction worker.”
He turns to his fellow Sika—well, former Sika—who blinks rapidly a few times.
Her glasses give her an owlish look, and if I had to guess, I’d say she’s my age or a few years younger.
“My name’s Alina,” she says, a Boston accent showing even in those three words.
“Um, I guess you already knew that. What else, what else … oh, I live in Rhode Island, and I’m a CPA.
Well, technically, I’m studying to be a CPA, but I’ve been working as an accountant for a couple of years, and I took the exam a week before I left for Samoa, and they probably already released the results.
And even if they haven’t yet, then—” She stops talking abruptly and takes a deep breath.
“Sorry,” she continues. “I tend to babble when I get nervous, as Juan already knows. I’ll shut up now. ”
“It’s okay,” I tell her, grinning lightly. “We won’t bite. I promise.”
She gives me a relieved smile. “Thanks for that,” she says. “But, uh, before I forget, should we look at the clue we got to the hidden immunity idol?”
Oh, right. I had almost forgotten about that in all the craziness.
Rhonda pulls the clue out of her pocket—Alex gave it to her before we left the challenge—and undoes the string, revealing a parchment similar to the ones we use to vote at tribal council.
“Y’all ready?” she says. She waits for us to nod, then clears her throat.
“If safety is what you seek,” she reads, “then look down low, not up high. But as you draw closer to me, just remember to stay dry.”
We all stand quietly for a moment, pondering the clue and what it might mean. “High and low … that could refer to the tides, right?” Alina eventually offers. “Maybe it’s somewhere near the ocean.”
“That would make sense,” Katie agrees. “And ‘look down low, not up high’ could mean that it’s hidden somewhere that’s only exposed at low tide—a cave or a rock or something, I don’t know.”
Alina’s eyes light up, and she starts to respond, but Juan clears his throat. “Why don’t we worry about the idol later?” he says, giving Alina a meaningful glance. “We did just get here, after all. Surely we have more important things to do right now.”
Her eyes widen, and she nods. “Oh, yeah, that makes sense. I’m sure the idol isn’t going anywhere anyway.” She gives us an awkward smile. “Maybe we could take a tour of the camp instead? I’d love to see where I’m going to be living for the next few days.”
Rhonda and Marina nod their agreement, but Katie and I share a look, and it’s obvious we’re both thinking the same thing. We have to find the idol before they do.
Still, no good will come from running off by ourselves, so we take Alina and Juan on a quick tour of our camp. Truth be told, there isn’t much to see, and it doesn’t take long for us to show them the shelter, well, and firepit.
The tour might just feel short because my mind is occupied the entire time.
Where could the idol be? Alina and Katie’s deductions make sense, but it almost seems too easy, like we’re missing something important.
Then again, I’m sure the producers want us to find it—what’s the point of hiding the idol if it never gets found? —so, maybe I’m overthinking it.
If I wasn’t already suspicious that finding the idol is priority number one for Alina and Juan, the fact that they both immediately make up an excuse to go walking down the beach as soon as we get back to the shelter would do it for me.
Rhonda, Katie, and Marina immediately go to follow, but I quickly corral them before they can all wander off in different directions.
“Listen, we need to think about this strategically,” I say, in hushed tones.
“Obviously, it would be best if one of us finds it, but if one of them finds it, we at least need to know about it, so we can plan accordingly. So I say instead of splitting up and going off on our own, we tail them. We can search too, as long as we’re careful not to take our eyes off them. ”
“Won’t they realize we’re following them pretty quickly?” Marina asks, frowning. “I don’t know about you, asere, but I’m not very stealthy.”
“I don’t think it matters if they see us,” Katie says, her brows knitting together in thought. “Actually, it might be better that way—if they know we’re watching them, they might be distracted.”
“Are we all agreed, then?” I ask, waiting for the three of them to nod. “Ok, great. In that case, Marina, you and Katie follow Alina. Rhonda and I will follow Juan.”
With that, we hurry off after the former Sikas.
Rhonda and I catch up to Juan as he ambles down the beach less than a minute later.
He and Alina must have had their own short strategy session, because they’re walking in completely opposite directions.
Rhonda and I stay about twenty-five feet back from him, close enough to see if he finds anything, but not so close that he can feel us breathing down his neck.
We keep our voices low, chatting about our favorite foods and movies and other inconsequential things, partially in case Juan overhears us, but also because most of our attention is focused on watching him and looking for likely hiding places at the same time.
As Katie suggested, we don’t really attempt to hide our presence, but we don’t advertise it either.
To Juan’s credit, he does an excellent job of pretending he’s not being followed—and he obviously knows, because only someone who’s completely deaf and blind wouldn’t realize we’re here.
The tide hasn’t reached its lowest ebb yet, so at first, he pauses to bask in the sun or stand in the waves, clearly trying to give the impression of someone who’s just enjoying a walk on the beach and is definitely not looking for an immunity idol, hidden or otherwise.
But as time passes and we reach low tide, he starts to openly search more, stopping every so often to examine a conspicuous rock or hollow.
Meanwhile, Rhonda and I do the same, although through unspoken agreement, we make sure that only one of us is searching at any given time, the other watching Juan.
After doing this for about an hour, Juan apparently decides that he’s had enough, because he abruptly turns around and begins walking the way we came. He passes Rhonda and me with a small smile and a shake of his head, but doesn’t say anything.
The walk back to camp is much the same as the walk out, although there are a few new places to check that weren’t exposed by the receding tide when we came by earlier.
As we get closer to the camp, I wonder if Juan is going to keep searching or give up once we reach it.
I hope it’s the latter. My legs are tired from walking, not to mention all the swimming I did during the challenge.
I get my answer when we approach the camp and Juan immediately heads straight to the shelter and lies down. Rhonda and I sit by the fire pit, keeping an eye on him in case he gets back up. But he just lies there with his shirt laid over his eyes, which is fine by me.
About half an hour after that, Alina returns, with Marina and Katie in tow. She goes to the shelter to wake Juan, and they begin talking to each other, keeping their voices low. Hopefully, they’re commiserating over the fact that neither of them found it.
Meanwhile, Marina and Katie join us at the fire. “I swear, that woman is as slippery as an anguila,” Marina says, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You turn around for one second, and she’s gone. I don’t know how she does it.”
I share a glance with Rhonda. “I’m pretty sure Juan doesn’t have it,” I say, as Rhonda nods her agreement. “But you think Alina might?”
Now it’s Katie and Marina’s turn to glance at each other. “Well, we didn’t see her find anything,” Katie replies. “But like Marina said, there were a couple of times we lost sight of her, so who knows? If I were betting on it, I’d say no, but I wouldn’t want to stake my life on it.”
We’re all silent for a moment, presumably thinking about how we can find out whether Alina found it. Then Rhonda leans forward, gently biting her bottom lip. “You know,” she says, her voice quiet, “we could just go through her bag.”
My first instinct is to laugh and, apparently, I’m not the only one, because Marina giggles. “Good one, Rhonda,” she says. “You almost had me there.”
Rhonda’s expression doesn’t change. “I was dead serious, honey. I ain’t saying we should steal it, just that we should look for it. Like Ryan said earlier, if they have it, we gotta know about it.”