Episode 23 Celeste
The medical team is here. Today’s not a good day.
“How is she?” I ask Beya pacing outside the shelter where Arlie’s lying down inside, frail, and speaking even less than she already does.
Flashbacks of watching one of my team’s best players, Dana, get carried out on a stretcher come to mind. That day was terrible, but something about this time feels different. Worse.
“This is not good,” Beya responds, gaze glued to the ground as her short frame darts back and forth.
I haven’t seen this many stress lines on her forehead before.
Arlie seemed to get sick overnight. Steph’s words about the way the game changes quickly comes to mind.
It’s true. In a matter of seconds, anything in this game can happen.
I put my hand on Beya’s shoulder and give a gentle reassuring squeeze, knowing the weight of what’s at risk.
If Arlie does in fact go home, that means Beya goes home, too.
“I’m sorry. Hopefully, she’ll make a quick recovery.” I tell Beya. It’s the only thing that comes to mind to say. Now, we’re both pacing. A beat later I ask, “Can we go see her?”
She slowly nods. “Whatever she has isn’t contagious. I’ve been with her since she first got sick early this morning.”
Paya, Saffron, and Lex are sitting by the fire. Heads down. Waiting for updates on Arlie. She’s only a competitor, but a friend too. I cross the threshold entering into the shelter following Beya.
Our shelter is made of stacked bamboo walls and palm fronds.
When we merged and arrived at Team Femme’s camp, the shelter was already tall enough for me to almost stand in and wide enough to easily fit ten people.
We reinforced the roof with the tarp and rope we brought from our camp and constructed the bedding off the ground to fight off the bugs and cold earth.
We even added two small windows and window shades woven from leaves.
Inside, Arlie’s lying near the far corner by a window, a damp towel on her forehead. Her thick brown curls draped to one side of her face. She’s motionless and has been like that for hours now.
“Perhaps she ate some bad shellfish or coconut. Could be anything, truly.” I overhear Doctor Hazel Jones, the lead medic, tell Beya while she finishes checking Arlie’s vitals. I walk to stand close enough to show support, but staying mindful to give them space.
She turns her attention to her patient. “Arlie, unfortunately, if you don’t improve in forty-eight hours, I’m going to have to pull you from the game. A fever can get pretty serious quickly out here if not managed properly and I can’t do that with limited equipment out here. I’m so sorry.”
Pain stitches across my face. Today really isn’t a good day.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Beya’s voice is desperate as she watches the woman pack her medical bag.
She exhales through her nostrils, then speaks candidly. “She needs food, fluids and rest. Her body is trying to fight, but I don’t know if that will be enough. Good luck. Excuse me.” She gives us a thin smile and exits the shelter.
“I haven’t had much luck catching fish lately,” Beya says out loud, facing her partner.
She seems completely defeated, her usual animated self evaporated.
She kneels next to Arlie and gently wraps her hand around Arlie’s.
“I won’t let you go home. Okay? You’re not done here.
We’re not finished with this island yet. ”
Arlie groans weakly. Beya frantically looks around the shelter and locates the canteen of water. She helps Arlie sit up enough for her to take a couple of tiny sips.
I can’t imagine how helpless she must be feeling right now.
In what seemed like an instant, her world turned upside down and now she could face being eliminated from the game unless Arlie’s condition rapidly improves.
That’s the risk we all signed up for playing The Final Summit. And time is ticking.
With Arlie confined to the shelter, the reality of our dwindling food supply settles in. Beya and I set out foraging for the afternoon.
Beya looks at me, her face set with a determination that’s all too familiar, signaling toward the tree line.
We grab our canvas bags and head out into the dense brush, our eyes scanning the canopy for anything edible.
The heat is oppressive, sticking to our skin as we push through the thick foliage.
Beya stops at the base of a towering palm tree, looking up at a cluster of coconuts high above.
Before I can even suggest looking for an easier target, she grips the rough trunk and starts to climb.
I hold my breath, watching her use every ounce of her remaining strength to pull herself upward until she manages to wrench a pair of coconuts loose.
They hit the forest floor with a heavy thud.
By the time she slides back down, her chest is heaving, her hands scraped and covered in dirt.
Exhausted, we make our way back to camp.
The hike feels twice as long on the return trip, our legs heavy from the lack of real sustenance.
As soon as we drop our meager haul, Beya hollows out a shell, drinks her water in long, desperate gulps, and immediately turns right back toward the jungle.
I try to grab her arm, telling her she needs to rest, but she shakes her head.
She goes out foraging on her own, disappearing back into the trees before I can stop her.
It’s dark and Beya still isn’t back.
“Maybe I should go look for her.” Concerned, I squint in the distance. I know I shouldn’t have let her go off by herself. No matter how determined she was. She hasn’t eaten more than a coconut all day.
Paya places a soft hand on my lower back. “If she’s not back soon, we’ll go. There would’ve been no stopping her though, you know how she gets when her mind’s made up.”
The day she relentlessly fished comes to mind. “This is something she needed to do, alone. I guess.” I face Paya and plant a kiss on her forehead, suddenly more grateful for her comforting presence.
“Tomorrow morning, Saffron and I will get a head start on foraging. We’ll bring back something to eat.”
“How are you doing?” I ask. Arlie has been a part of Paya’s team since day one. They appear to have become close in their own ways.
“I hate seeing her so lifeless.” She huffs a hollow laugh. “If that’s even possible.”
I squeeze her hand. Lex and Saffron exit the shelter. My turn. “I’m going to go check on her. Bring her this new wood I found earlier. That way she’ll have plenty to craft when she’s feeling better.”
I walk over to the shelter, but before I can step inside, a rustling in the brush catches my attention.
Beya arrives back at camp. With both arms, she’s carrying a full bundle of bright yellow bananas. I know she had to climb a tree to retrieve them. Without a word, she immediately starts peeling two bananas and hands one to me.
Now that Beya’s returned safely to camp, the others go to sleep. I stay with Beya who, I’m convinced, if she keeps up this pace, medical will be carting her off the island before they do Arlie.
I position the water-filled with water over the fire. I can’t help but let out a tiny chuckle at Beya feeding Cluck a piece of banana while she still hasn’t taken a bite since returning. “Will you please eat something? You’re just as stubborn as my sister.”
“I’m not hungry. How can I be when my partner is bedridden? Would you be worried about food for yourself if Paya was sick?”
I slowly shake my head, my lips pulling toward one side. At work and here, Paya is usually the one who has to remind me to eat. Not the other way around. “I see your point.”
“Can you toss me two more bananas, please?”
I let out a sigh. There’s no use in fighting her on this. “What are you doing?”
“Everything I can think of to try to help Arlie.” Beya places the flesh of the bananas on a leaf, tosses the peels inside and places the lid on top.
“I’m making banana peel tea. It will help her sleep.
I used to make some for my kid when she had trouble sleeping from nightmares when she was little. ”
“Will you drink a cup too?” I ask, giving her the same look I give Megan when she’s pushed beyond limits, which often leads to injury. “You’ve done all you can for one day. Let her body do the rest.”
Despite being competition, part of me would hate to see Beya go home due to an aftermath of her own sickness from something originally out of her own control.
“Cat’s honor.” She eventually does a quick salute. “But tomorrow I’m fishing until I catch something.”
I believe every word she says. That’s what I appreciate about Beya. She’s consistent, loyal, kind, and someone I’m happy to call a friend.
Sitting on a log, we stare at the fire crackle in silence.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she whispers next to me, emotion coursing through her voice. “This can’t be how her game ends. She’s worked too hard to be taken out by a bad coconut. This is my fault. If only I caught more fish.”
I add another log to the fire. “Try not to beat yourself up. You’re doing all you can to stay in the game. Tomorrow’s a new day.”
Beya shifts her torso in my direction. “I could care less about the game right now.” By the look in her eyes, there’s fire in them underneath the exhaustion. “All I care about is Arlie.”
“You really like her don’t you?” Maybe a little more than a crush.
She pauses, looking out toward the dark ocean.
A wide grin pokes through finally. “From the first moment I laid eyes on her. I can’t explain it, but I knew she was my laser.
When a cat first sees that tiny red dot, she’ll stop at nothing to capture it.
The laser consumes her every thought.” She giggles when she sees my gaze drift toward the shelter where Paya is sleeping.
“I guess we’re both in trouble, huh? You don’t need to say it out loud.
It’s pretty obvious in the way you two look at each other. ”
It’s the first time Beya’s laughed since medical showed up this morning. I hate that she’s right. I’ve fallen for Paya. My assistant, against my own best judgement.
“Yes, we are,” I admit. “She’s my…laser.” I let myself enjoy the moment of silliness and smile thinking about Paya’s big mesmerizing eyes and how they soften when we’re alone.
Once the banana tea is ready, Beya pours three servings and hands one to me.
“I think I love her, Celeste.” Her face falls. Back to reality. “But I fear love doesn’t fight fevers, and it certainly doesn’t belong in this game.”