Episode 24 Paya
“Beya stayed by her side all night. I don’t think she slept.” Saffron puffs out her bottom lip. She’s updating me on Arlie’s condition on our way back to camp from our morning forage. “At least she’s not as sickly looking anymore.”
Will it be enough for the medic to clear her tomorrow morning? I don’t know. But what I do know is Beya and Arlie gone would change my gameplan.
“You, me, Lex, and Celeste in the final four.” I step over a tree branch.
Friendships aside, Arlie and Beya are a part of our alliance.
We can’t not discuss strategy. Regardless, the only real way to guarantee my spot in the final three is to win immunity challenges and hope my mystery box delivers something promising to keep Celeste safe. That’s my best bet.
“Look.” I point at the small bundle of tiny amber-colored fruits hanging from a tree limb. “I think that’s a date palm tree.”
I remember the time Grandma GG stuffed cubes of goat cheese inside and wrapped them with bacon.
My stomach growls at the mental image of the baked hors d’oeuvres.
Our camp hasn’t eaten much of anything besides fruit, let alone any meat in days, and it’s starting to show in our energy levels and in my dreams.
“Good find. Let’s take some back.” Saffron grabs the machete, leans on her tippy toes, and manages to cut a bundle free.
When it drops to the ground, I pick a date up to inspect and gently squeeze the tiny soft fruit the size of my thumb. Some are plump and soft, others perfectly wrinkled and ripened. After removing the large seeds in the middle, I hand one to Saffron and we toast.
“This is orgasmic.” A moan falls from my lips as the intoxicating rush of sugar hits my system. “I forgot what sugar tastes like.”
“You and me both.”
We fill up our tote bags and return to camp. Upon arrival, Celeste and Lex are stacking firewood.
“She’s about the same.” Celeste anticipates my question before I get a chance to speak. “We’ve been in rotation making her tea. She seems to really enjoy that.”
I reach into my bag, pull out one of the softer dates we found and hold it up to Celeste’s lips. She slowly opens her mouth and when she takes a bite, her eyes widen as the hit of concentrated sweetness.
“These are incredible.” A big smile breaks across her face when I give her a sneak peak at the quantity in my bag. “
I look around camp. “Where’s Beya?”
“She left shortly after you two did.” Lex motions to the spot where the fishing spear usually sits. “Tides are a bit rough from the rain early this morning, but she went anyway.”
Saffron and I set our bags down and walk toward the beach to track her down.
We find Beya near the rocky shoreline, her eyes scanning the rough water with intense focus.
We pull her aside into the shade of the palms to talk strategy in private, but Beya barely seems to hear us.
Her mind is somewhere else. Or on someone, rather.
She mumbled something about fishing and dove back into the water.
Abandoning the idea of talking strategy, we return back to camp and help prepare the fire for a resemblance of a dinner.
The sunset is almost over when a commotion yanks my attention toward the front. Is that clapping?
Beya approaches camp, hulling a thirty-pound tuna, the length of her arm. Saffron squeals, leaping into the air and she doesn’t even eat fish.
“When a feline is on a mission to hunt, she stops at nothing.” Beya proudly holds up the tuna the length of her arm. “I had to feed my family."
“If that’s not a declaration of love, then I don’t know what love is.” Lex pats Beya’s shoulder. “Consider me officially swooned. Thank you, Jungle Cat.”
Later, the smell of woodsmoke and laughter fill the air.
Beya helped Arlie get some fresh air by leaving the shelter and joining us for dinner.
She’s spoon feeding Arlie bites of grilled tuna.
From the opposite side, I watch as Arlie manages to croak out a dry thank you and snuggles up closer to Beya.
With our stomachs full, we settle down for the evening. By the fire, I sit between Celeste’s legs, wrapped in her arms. Lex is lying down on her back with a pillow behind her head, humming while adjusting her purple wrap around her neck, and Saffron went off to do her naked yoga routine.
How are you feeling?” Beya presses a soft kiss to Arlie’s temple. Seeing the vibrant color back in Arlie’s brown skin again is a relief. The way Beya hasn’t left her side, keeping up the fight to keep their partnership alive, makes it obvious that this is about so much more than just the game.
Arlie doesn’t respond. She picks up the paring knife next to a block of wood and throws it at a tree trunk fifteen feet away.
Thwack.
It hits the center of the wood, the blade sticking into the bark.
Eyes wide, we stare at the tree. Silent.
Arlie places a kiss on Beya’s cheek. Her voice is low and rough. “Better.”
My ear-to-ear smile meets Beya’s.
Arlie’s back.