Blue Lotus

The Blue Lotus.

Chapter One: Shipwreck.

The 'Santa Maria' left Los Angeles harbor on the 7th May 2005, bound
for Jakarta in Indonesia. She was a regular passenger liner, and her
first stop was Oahu in the Hawaiian Islands.

From here she traveled west on shipping route 6130, bound for Guam,
where she set course South West for Indonesia. It was on the
twenty-first day of her voyage that the storm struck them, while they
were still well north of the main islands of Indonesia, approximately a
hundred and fifty kilometers north of the equator. The closest large
inhabited island was Waigeo, which lay on the equator.

But the storm was too strong and too fierce for the luxury cruiser, and
in the middle of the gale the ship ruptured her hull on a shallow reef.
She went down quickly amidst the howling wind and gigantic waves, and
few passengers managed too disembark onto the lifeboats. Many were
swept away by the raging current.

The storm raged on for another hour and then rolled on to another part
of the vast Pacific Ocean.

When they had recovered from their ordeal they soon discovered that
they were the only three survivors on this small island.

The girl was named Sandra, and one of the boys was her boyfriend,
Peter. He was sixteen and she, fifteen. His father was a wealthy
accountant in Los Angeles, and had sent them on this pleasure cruise to
Indonesia as a gift to his son on his sixteenth birthday.

The other boy was named Jon, he was fourteen. He had come out on the
cruise with his retired father. His father had been a maintenance
foreman at a cannery near Monterey, and had come out on this trip after
his retirement, bringing his son along with him. His mother had passed
away from cancer four years ago. Now it seemed he had lost his father
also.

They became acquainted soon enough and started to explore their
surroundings. The island they were on was uninhabited and isolated. It
was also quite small. It was approximately five square kilometers in
surface area, with a circumference of about eight kilometers. There was
no fresh water.

Animal life on the island was restricted to birds, and a few reptiles
and snakes. Insects flourished. They quickly realized that fish, and
perhaps sometimes birds, would have to suffice as sustenance.

They found a nice small lagoon which was set back quite deep into the
island. It had small cliffs surrounding it, and a large flat boulder
lay against the sides of a cliff, providing an overhang and forming a
small cavern below. They made this their home. Close to their dwelling
was a flat surface of rock, protruding a small distance into the
lagoon. This was an ideal platform for swimming or diving out from. It
was also suitable for washing purposes.

They collected such debris from the shipwreck as they found lying about
the shores of the small island. They picked up a fair amount of canvas
sheeting and bits of metal, both sheeting and poles. They were also
fortunate enough to find several plastic containers of varying size;
the larger ones would be kept mainly for storage while the smaller ones
would be used for drinking and eating out of. They also found a large
bolt of white woolen cloth.

Their first priority was fresh drinking water, and to obtain this they
dug shallow round trenches in the ground and placed some canvas
sheeting over it, pressing it down into the hollow they had dug. When
it rained, as it did virtually every afternoon, and most nights, they
collected water in this way in the canvas sheets. When the rain had
stopped, they would scoop the water from the holes and pour it into the
three large containers they used for this purpose.

They kept a calendar on the inside of the cavern, by scratching out the
days with a small piece of chalkstone. They started it on the twenty-
ninth of May 2005. They soon realized they were stuck here until help
and rescue arrived, as none of them had adequate skills at building a
raft, and then attempting to cross the ocean with it.

Chores were soon divided among them with Sandra being left in charge of
'the fort' as they called it, while the men had to provide the meals,
by trapping birds and fishing. Sandra did the cooking and cleaning. She
kept the calendar. She collected the water. She did whatever other
small chores needed to be done such as mending clothes and listening to
the boys' complaints and petty squabbles. But sometimes in between the
work, she would sit and long for home, for LA.

The boys soon realized that they would have much more success by
working as a team at their projects, than individually. So they made
spears from wood they cut nearby with Peter's pocketknife, and went to
fish in the early morning, spearing fish in the shallows of either the
beach or the lagoon. On a good morning they would get one or two fair
sized fish. Small ones were not easy to spear.

During the day they checked and set their traps in the bushy interior
of the island. They mostly made strings with nooses from some thin
nylon rope that they had managed to salvage. The nooses dangled just
above the ground, on the height of a bird walking or running on the
ground. The idea was to catch a bird in the noose in this way. They
chose spots where there were some signs of regular bird movement, and
set their traps there. But for all their effort they seldom managed to
catch one, and when they did, it was considered as somewhat of an
occasion.

The island was beautiful with lovely flowers growing in the interior on
places where the thicker green vegetation had not total control. This
thick green foliage covered most of the small island, and at places the
growth was truly impenetrable. It was in this dense bush that the
insects bred, and the main discomfort on the island was the mosquitoes.
What made it worse was that they had no remedy for it. The mosquitoes
attacked them virtually at will.

The days were extremely hot, especially the afternoons, so they usually
rested from about three to four. In the late afternoon the boys again
went out into the shallows with their wooden spears to see whether they
would be lucky enough to get a fish or two.

The sunsets were spectacular, with every shade of red flowing from the
setting sun each evening. By this time the fire would be going and
Sandra would be busy preparing the meal. The nights were dark and
lonely and from where they lay beneath some canvas sheeting, on their
beds of leaves, they could see the brilliant constellations of both
hemispheres. They stars shone like a billion diamonds in the darkness,
and sleep came quickly, after some final idle conversation.

The mornings broke with the brilliance of light and an assault of
birdcalls, and another day started of work, fishing and survival, and
soon it became the routine of their lives. And one day followed upon
another, until they had been stranded several months. They kept a
beacon fire always on the ready on a hill near the beach, but no ships
passed their island.

There was a flower among the flowering plants on the island that stood
out from among the other flowers in beauty and color, it was a
brilliant blue. The girl new a little about flowers, as her uncle
farmed with them in Burbank. She called it the Blue Lotus, because it
had the shape an appearance of a variety she was familiar with, if not
the color. She planted them in beds she made around the cavern, and
soon their home was decorated with the lovely blue flowers.

The lagoon faced west, and it was only easterly winds that affected
them. But their shelter was well enough inland, and concealed, that
only very strong winds from the west caused them some discomfort. The
wind never seriously threatened their existence. When a really strong
gust came up the cavern provided more than adequate protection.

In their travels through the inland the boys found two types of
vegetables that proved edible by trail and error. The one was a long
thin green pod, which had small round fruit inside, much like peas. The
other they were unsure as to whether it was a fruit or vegetable, but
was small, round and red. They referred to it as a tomato. Thereafter
they always referred to them as 'tomatoes', although they had a
completely different taste. They had decided early on not to attempt to
eat mushrooms of any kind. They found a place on the rocks on the
opposite side of the island that had plenty of mussels, and soon this
became one of their favorite dishes. They spent their days gathering
food.

It was always hot and there was no winter. Their skins became dark
brown from exposure to the sun, and the boys seldom wore their only
shirts. Sandra made them each two pairs of rough-cut shirts from the
bolt of wool they had retrieved, and when she was pleased with the
finished product, she made two for herself. They almost never wore
them, except if a downpour was long and continuous.

The sun beat down in all its glory, and slowly, and with much
suffering, the young people became accustomed to this extreme heat.
They learnt to avoid the mid day sun, and only ventured out in the
mornings and evenings. Only very important matters called for them to
move about in the sun. But seeing as there was only the three of them
in paradise, there were no pressing matters, and they only went about
their business during the cooler parts of the day.

A year and a half passed, and they gradually realized rescue was not
imminent. Not only that, they might live out their lives here on this
lost island, and never be found. A year and a half. And it was
Christmas night 2006. They circled it on the calendar. Their first
Christmas had been a dull affair, and hardly planned at all. This year
it was different, they were going the whole hog.

The boys collected several canvas satchels full of 'tomatoes' and
'peas', and a large one filled with mussels. They had several large
dried fish they had kept for this occasion, because by this time they
had become accustomed to eating dried fish. Before life on the island,
they would all three have found it revolting.

They made a fire, and somewhere quite late at night, the two young men
got it in their heads to go and light the signal fire on the beach,
just for the hell of it. They ran off onto the white sand of the beach
along the well-trodden path, each with a burning stick in their hands.
It was a race, the first there would be the first to light the
fire.

Jon was younger and slightly shorter than Peter, but he was much more
fast and swift. He had gained ground early on in the race and arrived
on the clearing where the signal fire stood ready first. He threw the
flaming branch trough the air shouting "Me first."

Peter arrived a second or two later, saying "Damn, you beat me to it,
well might as well do my share." And he stepped up to where the fire
was only slowly starting to burn, and lit it well with his burning
branch.

Soon the large signal fire was raging in the pitch-dark night. The two
young men stood and laughed. "Burn baby, burn!" they shouted and
laughed. And the fire raged in the dark night. A light for anyone that
may be far out at sea. A light for anyone to see. But no one saw it,
because there was no one to see. And it burned, and it burned, and the
only people that saw its light, were the three young people standing at
it.

Chapter Two: The Boys.

The boy's beards and hair grew long; they had no way of grooming it.
Bathing was done in the salt water of the lagoon, or even in the waves
during low tide.

Peter was seventeen going on eighteen, and Jon was now sixteen. Peters
curly black hair formed a dense bush around his hair, his eyes were
dark to match his hair. Jon was a few inches shorter than Peter. He had
long brown hair and deep, dark green eyes. Peter was a more outgoing
person, and the acknowledged, if unacclaimed leader of the trio.

Jon was a quieter, more withdrawn young man, and life in seclusion on
the island had made him even more so. But they were best of friends,
the ones temperament complimenting the others. Just before sunrise they
would be out among the shallows spearing for fish. If they were in any
way successful, they would only eat later on in the morning, when it
became to hot for fishing.

Late in the afternoon they would be out among the shallows again,
trying their luck. They conversed as they fished.

"What's the first thing you gonna do when we get back in the states?"
asked Jon.
"Me? Well I'll go to the nearest Mc Donald's and order the biggest
burger they've got. Then when I've finished that off, I'll go and buy a
bottle of Southern Comfort, and get pissed down by the rocks by the
pier. And then I'll go and get laid."
"But you get laid every night?" laughed Jon.
"A change is as good as a holiday, they say. And you, what you gonna do
once were back in civilization?" asked Peter.
"You're list just about does it for me as well." Jon laughed again and
then added "But I don't think I'll go back."
"Jeez whiskers man! This island life must really be getting to you,
better keep your head out of the sun more. You're not serious, staying
here on the island."
"Not here stupid." Said Jon "But somewhere around here, you know, like
Jakarta or something. I'm sure I'll be able to find some kind of work.
What with the old man not being around anymore, it really doesn't
matter where I settle. And, yeah, I guess you're right, this life has
gotten to me."

Peter knew better than to give Jon unrealistic hopes of his father
being alive, so just said "Well, you be sure to come and look us up, if
you ever long for the green grass of California." And they both
laughed. "I sure will." Said Jon.

A large silver fish dashed past and Jon took aim and threw in virtually
the same motion. The fish was speared and he lifted it smoothly out of
the water on the sharpened stick, giving a small whoop of
delight.

Both young man missed the luxuries of home. Peter more than John,
having come from a wealthier family.

They both longed for a shave, a hot bath, a clean bed and a brand new
set of clothes. A few brand new sets of clothes. They missed all the
pleasures of home. Barbeque on a Sunday afternoon. A few Bud's with
some friends watching football on the TV. Movies, Hollywood, MTV. They
missed all the gossip about the stars. They even missed Madonna and
Michael Jackson's. They wondered what had happened about his trail and
speculated no end

But it always came back to food and drink. A steak or Kentucky Fried
Chicken. Southern Comfort or Captain Morgan. They were virtually
obsessed with the food and drink back home. Peter missed school; he was
doing well at college, and hoped to follow in his father's footsteps.
Now life was slipping by him slowly, and he was making no
progress.

Jon wasn't an academically minded young man, but still had some
aspirations of settling in a good job and advancing himself
financially. He still had these ambitions, even on the island, because
he believed, as they all did, and had to, that rescue would come.
Someday.

And the hope was always that it would be soon. Maybe tomorrow, maybe
the day after. But it would come.

They had finished fishing for the day and came out of the shallows onto
the beach. They went and lay on the high watermark where there was some
grass and plants growing. Here they took their usual seats and watched
as the sun went down.

"No luck today." Said Jon. "No." said Peter. "Lucky we've got some left
from yesterday." Remarked Jon. "Yep. But some fresh fish sure would
have been tastier." Replied Peter. "No denying that." Said Jon, and
they were quiet for a while as they watched the brilliant red and
orange streaks of dying sunlight in the thin clouds above.

The light played an orchestra of shades of crimson on the horizon and
high clouds above. A spectacular of red, gold, yellow, orange, purple
and crimson, mixed with lilac background. The shades blended and moved,
and shifted, and blended and moved again as the sun went down. They sat
and let the time pass.

"That is what makes me believe there is a God." Said Josh gesturing at
the sunset.
"Almost makes me believe it too." Replied Peter, who was not religious
in any way, and he added, "I can't think of a more convincing argument
myself." And they both laughed softly.

The breakers were picking up slightly as the evening fell and the tide
started to rise. They stood up and brushed a bit of dirt off their knee
high pants, and then headed back for the cavern.

"I'm going to make myself two spears with proper metal points, from
some of those scrap pieces we picked up." Said Josh.
"How are you going to ply and work the metal?" asked Peter.
"I was thinking of trying some hard rock to grind and cut it with." He
said, "When it's the right size, I'll start to whet it so that it gets
a nice sharp edge."
"Maybe, I'll give it a go myself. Do you think we will catch better
fish like that." Asked Peter.
"No I doubt it, I think a plain sharpened stick is probably best for
that. I am just going to do it out of boredom." Jon remarked as they
entered the encampment where Sandra had the fire going.

"What, no fish?" she said
"No fish." They both replied simultaneously.
"Shit." She said "left-overs."

The three young people sat in the cavern. Sandra cooking, Jon working
on his spear, and Peter surveying the scene and just relaxing.

"What on earth are you doing Jon." She asked.
"I'm making myself two proper spears, with steel points." He
replied
"What for, it won't make for better fishing." She said.
"Well maybe we need to protect ourselves from someone or something
sometime." He said.
"Like who? The savage tribesmen on the nearby islands?" she asked
sneeringly.
"Maybe in need to protect myself from your jealous hubby." He said and
made a mock stab with a half finished spear in Peter's direction.

Peter knew they were speaking hogwash again, so decided to change the
topic to their favorite one.

"Boy, I sure miss Madonna." He said sarcastically.
"Madonna, idiot?who will ever miss her." She said as they both knew she
would and the two young men glanced at each other, and smiled. And she
continued as they both knew she would.

"What about Michael? Do you guys think he got off?" she asked the
inevitable next question.
"He got off, I can almost guarantee it, money talks baby, money talks."
Said Peter.
"Yeah, I reckon." Said Jon.
"I wish they locked him up, people like that should be locked up." She
said.
Peter and Jon gave each other a look and smiled.
"Well if they did, he'll have to settle for older playmates inside."
Said Jon and they all laughed.

Then Sandra served the food. First she served Peter. He took the small
plastic container of food from her and thanked her. She smiled at him
he smiled back. Then she gave Jon his food also in a small plastic
container. He thanked her and she smiled. He smiled back.

Outside the small surf was washing gently onto the beach, and they
could just hear its rhythm in the background as the waves broke on the
beach. The night was dark and starlit, and their little fire blazed
softly in the vast empty expanse. An island in the Pacific Ocean.

A little forgotten world all on its own, with three young forgotten
people, all on their own. And the surf lapped gently on the
shore.

Chapter Three: The Girl.

The girl came from an upper middle class family. They had been poor
most of her young life as her father first studied, and then later had
to work his way up in the ranks of the law firm at which he was
employed.

Her father was one of those lawyers that dabbled in a little bit of
everything, when it came to law. He was quite a good lawyer, and had in
recent years been made a senior partner of the firm. That is when they
really became quite well off for the first time.

Her mother ran a small hairdresser business of her own, but she did not
make a lot of money through it. She had a brother who was younger than
her and also still at school. He loved basketball, and was quite a good
player for his age. He had dreams of making it in the big league one
day.

She missed her family even more than civilization itself. She thought
of all she could have done with them at home. She missed them and, yes,
she even missed school. She was not a cheerleader, or even particularly
good at any sport, but still, she was popular under her classmates and
did well enough in her courses. She did so well, that her aspirations
of obtaining a tertiary qualification was actually quite realistic. She
wanted to become doctor or psychiatrist, but all that had now been put
on hold indefinitely.

She had long, straight black hair with matching dark eyes. Her
grandmother on her mother's side was Hispanic and she had inherited her
features. Although she was a bit of a shy girl, she got along with just
about anyone, and loved people, and life. She dreamed of having the
comforts of home again, just like Peter and Jon. She longed for a long
hot bath, a bed with clean linen, and some nice, clean, freshly pressed
clothes. It was all so distant now that it seemed as if it was a dream
to begin with.

She even missed their pet dog 'Jasper', whom she generally found to be
a disagreeable creature. Maybe they would make up once she was back
home. However, she doubted it, 'Jasper' would always be a mean hearted
cur, no matter how long they were separated. Besides, he probably would
have died of old age by the time she got back. At least she didn't have
to watch him lie around all day and lick his balls.

This thought made her smile. No, if she were back home, not even that
would make her unhappy. She would be back with her people, back
home.

She picked up a small plastic container and ran down to the beach to go
and pick up some shells for her collection. It was early morning and
the boys were out fishing. Her chores only began later in the day, if
they caught anything.

She ran down the trodden sandy path along the lagoon, heading for the
beach.

The girl liked to collect shells on the beach in the early morning when
the tide washed them in.

She only picked up shells that were perfect. She had several beautiful
conches, and a whole array of small shells, all different varieties.
She had the most stunning collection of cowries from large to small,
all of them, immaculate. They were one of her favourites, and she
should take them all with her if they ever got rescued.

She tried to convince the boys to make a horn out of a large conch,
like in the book 'Lord of the Flies'. But they said they didn't know
how to, and didn't see the need for one. She thought it would be neat.
Communication is always important.

She spotted several medium sized cowries nearby on the sand close to
the break line, and stooped to pick them up. She inspected each one
closely and discarded those she found to be imperfect. Then she put
those that were in a satisfactory condition in the small plastic
container. And then she walked on down the beach a little further, with
two more brilliant cowries to add to her collection.

When the sun was above the horizon she returned to the cavern to
prepare a meal. The young men had caught a fair sized fish, and she was
unsure as to who had caught this one, as they were both equally good at
it. She fried the fish in a pan that Jon had managed to shape out of
large, thick sheet of metal. He had made three 'pots' and a 'pan' in
this way. Peter carved her some wooden spoons with his pocketknife. And
those were her kitchen utensils. She had learned to use them
efficiently, and could prepare a delicious meal from only the basic
ingredients. After they had eaten, and the boys had gone to inspect
their traps, she cleaned up the dinner 'dishes' and the 'pan'.

She walked down to the waters edge out on the stone platform. Here she
knelt and scooped up some dirt from the edge of the lagoon, rubbing the
dishes with them, and once they were thoroughly cleaned in this manner,
she rinsed them out in the clean water of the lagoon. The tide washed
fresh seawater into the lagoon daily, taking the dirty water out. Now
she had nothing else to do and it was time for her other pet project,
her garden of Blue Lotus.

She had a small hoe, also made of wood with which she tended her
garden. She kept the soil in her Blue Lotus beds loose by digging into
the soft soil with her hoe. She weeded out any unwanted growth or
plants, and trimmed the dead and dieing branches of her Blue Lotus
plants with her hands. This was not difficult as the plant was quite
fragile.

She stood back and watched her little garden with pride. Beautiful life
growing from the reach soil of mother earth, just as life was beginning
to grow inside her.

It was late January 2007, and she was most definitely pregnant. She
informed, Peter and he was ecstatic. Jon also seemed quite please for
them.

She was pregnant and she was happy. Apart from the joys of motherhood,
it would give her, and them all, a new companion. She loved Peter, he
was kind and intelligent, if not always thoughtful of the feelings of
others, but then, who really was.

They had known each other for almost six years, and went to school
together, where they met. They had been going steady s boyfriend and
girlfriend for two years, before they went on the cruise and disaster
struck.

She knew him better than any man, except maybe her father. And yes, she
did love him, because she knew him well enough to. They were young and
once they were rescued, they and the baby, would have their lives ahead
of them. Surely it wouldn't be long now. Any day now. Maybe the baby
would even be born back home.

And then there was Jon. He was most definitely the more handsome of the
two young men, with his long brown hair, high cheek bones, and deep
green eyes, which always seemed to be pondering some eternal question
regarding your soul, when he looked into your eyes. She had known no
man more attractive than he in her life, and had she been a single girl
she would not have thought twice about hooking up with him. But she was
transgressing into the territory of forbidden thoughts, she knew, for
Peter was her man. And he would most definitely be for a long, long
time.

Ah, but those eyes, those deep green eyes.

Chapter Four: Confrontation.

Peter was getting more and more irritable. The hard island life and
seclusion was starting to get to him, as it did from time to time them
all. But this time it was different, he could feel it. It was as if he
was loosing his mind.

At least he still knew what the date was; it was 5 June 2007. They had
been stuck on the island for two years. Sandra was far into her
pregnancy. If everything went smoothly the baby would be due in
September.

But he himself was a wreck emotionally. He fought more frequently with
the other two. Sure, they had had arguments before, but now they were
becoming more frequent and intense. He had to get off this island or
something bad was bound to happen, he could sense it.

He was tired of living like a hobo. No, worse than a hobo. A hobo at
least had an occasional take away meal, and got pissed every night. He
had nothing. He had a wife that was as dirty and unshaven as he was. He
had only one male companion, and the two of them were increasingly
beginning to work on each other's nerves.

What in heavens name was he going to do. He had to get away from this
place, but to attempt it would surely be suicide. This is why he came
out on his own to this secluded part of the island today, on the
southern side. He had to think. He had to try and put things in
perspective for himself.

There must be ten thousand ships out at sea on the oceans of the world,
would not one find them? Ever? Would they be stuck here until they
died? It seemed to become a distinct possibility to him.

He looked out over the water, and in anger he threw a stone into the
ocean, as a tear of frustration rolled down his left cheek.

He returned late in the afternoon to find Sandra cleaning the morning's
dishes

"Why are you only cleaning them now? You should have done it this
morning." He said shortly.
"I was not feeling well, what with the baby, so I lay down most of the
day."
"You're not doing your share any more," he said " and you are using the
baby as an excuse."

A rather hefty argument ensued, and Jon sat watching from the side. Not
wanting to interfere in their domestic affairs, he remained silent for
a while, but eventually he told Peter to shut up and let Sandra
be
"Are you telling me what to do? Are you giving the orders around here
now?" Peter demanded.

Jon was getting tired of Peter's negative attitude and stood up and
told him again to shut up. He was holding the spear he was busy
sharpening in his right hand. Peter took it as an aggressive gesture,
and picked up one of his own wooden spears. What happened next was a
blur of instinctive movements as the young men attacked one another
with their weapons.

Jon's reflexes were fractionately faster than Peter's, and he drove his
spear home first, underneath Peter's ribcage. Peters wooden spear also
fond its mark, which was Jon's face. But his point only gashed the skin
very badly, but did not become stuck in the flesh.

Peter was mortally wounded and collapsed in anguish and pain as the
blood gushed from the wound. Jon had punctured his heart with the metal
pointed spear, and he lay dying on the stone platform outside the
cavern, bleeding to death.

Sandra ran away screaming in horror. Then it was quiet, and only Jon
stood breathing in the clearing.

Jon dragged Peter's body along the well-trodden path from the lagoon to
the interior of the island.

He only dragged him a few hundred meters, because it was heavy work on
his own. The sun was beginning to set, so he found a burial place
quickly. As darkness settled he dug a deep grave in the soft soil with
a flat piece wood they used for digging.

He deposited Peter's body in the hole and then filled it up again. He
trampled down the soil as best he could and then marked the spot with a
large round boulder. He marked the boulder with a piece of chalkstone,
making a cross on it. Then he stood over the grave, and recited Psalm
23, which was the best he could do by way of a requiem.

It was late in the evening when he returned to the cave, and Sandra was
nowhere to be seen. She did not return that evening but slept out on
the beach. It was late the next day that she returned to find him
sleeping in the shady interior of the cavern, on the spot where he
always slept.

He awoke as she entered.

"Is he dead?" she asked.
"Yes." He said.
"What have you done with him?" she asked.
"I buried him." Jon said.

It took a while before they could look each other in the eyes again,
and if anything, Jon was more deeply traumatized by the experience than
Sandra. However, gradually they recovered some semblance of normality,
with Jon fishing, and Sandra holding the fort.

Being alone, it was also not long before they became intimate, and Jon
took the place of Peter in her life. They had been given a harsh lesson
in life, but somehow it seemed to pull them closer together.

The baby was born in September, as they had hoped and expected. To both
of their delight it was a girl. Sandra named her after her grandmother
Rosalind, or Rosy, for short.

The days on the island became more and more pleasant to them both as
they gradually became accustomed to the heat and isolation. Jon caught
fish out in the shallows in the early mornings and late afternoon, and
he became so good at it, that he was soon catching as much fish as he
and Peter did together.

He loved the water, and he sometimes wondered if he would ever be able
to adjust to civilization again, should they ever be rescued.

Chapter Five: Life After.

The days where hot with rain in the afternoon, and some evenings.

Jon fished in the shallows. It was May 2008. The baby was coming along
fine, and had not once fallen ill. He had a bad scar on his left cheek
from the fight with Peter. But he tried to concentrate on the present;
Sandra and the baby. His spear dived into the water after an illusive
fish.

May 2008. They had been on the island three years. Rescue certainly was
not imminent, they realized. They had little choice but to continue as
they have. Fortunately the rains were plentiful at this time of year,
and there supply of fresh rainwater was more than adequate.

Jon came to know the entire island like the back of his hand. He was
familiar with the whole interior and the entire stretch of coastline.
He knew where the 'tomatoes' and 'peas' where to be found in greatest
amounts. He came to know many of the individual trees, shrubs and
plants. As well as the birds of the island. He gave them names, without
realizing he was doing so. He and Peter had done the same thing.
Between the two of them they had come up with many names for plants,
birds and fish. Now he was inadvertently continuing the process.

He and Sandra became very close and intimate in their relationship. He
loved her, he knew. He now realized that he had loved her from the
start. She loved him too, he could tell, despite what had happened. He
thought about this, yes, in love, they were happy despite all the
hardship and suffering. Two people could never be closer. He smiled at
this, as he jabbed into the water after another fish.

This time he got it. It was a nice large 'spot'. Sandra would be
pleased.

Sandra continued tending her Blue Lotus garden, collecting her shells
and doing her chores. The baby grew quickly, and she was always
healthy. Island life seemed to suit her. Only the abundance of
mosquitoes posed a serious problem.

When the baby was just over a year old, she fell pregnant again, in
February 2009. The baby came in October and they named her Margaret,
after Sandra's mother, because Jon had no interest in the naming of
babies. Two years separated the two baby girls, and they were
inseparable from the start.

They had been on the island for four years and five months, but lately
time seemed to matter less. Still, they kept track of the passage of
time, with Sandra religiously keeping the chalk calendar up to
date.

The girls learnt from their mother such basic skills as young ones need
to acquire, such as language and manners. Jon loved the two little
girls possessively, and to Sandra it seemed as if he made extra effort
to bring home fresh fish each day. And he did, he tried, and because he
tried, he was successful. Hardly a day went passed that there was not
fresh fish or bird for supper. For, he became better at trapping birds
also.

The signal fire was always kept ready, and sometimes Sandra would go
and sit there with the two babies, under the shade of a palm tree. She
would make a smaller fire nearby so that she would be able to light it
should a ship come past.

The children loved the sea and learnt how to swim virtually before they
could walk. Sandra had to keep a close eye on them whenever they were
playing in the shallows.

The months and the years flowed by in a continuous stream of hot
tropical days and nights. Two more years on the island passed, and the
girls were now aged four and two. They knew no other life than the
island. They knew no other people than their parents.

They knew only happiness in the sun.

Chapter Six: The Children.

Sandra taught the girls basic reading and writing skills from an early
age. She also taught them basic arithmetic. She did this so that they
may be able to adapt to schooling, should they ever be rescued.

She taught them using chalkstone, writing against the rock walls of the
lagoon. The girls loved their lessons. They were healthy babies both,
and were growing into two fine young children. They loved the island
life.

Sandra and Jon had decided early on never to reveal the identity of
Rosie's real father to her, due to the circumstances surrounding his
death. She accepted Jon as her real father, and that would have to be
enough. And for Rosy it would never be a problem because she loved Jon
as much as any child could love her father.

They were a happy, if extremely poor, island family. The girls listened
all day to their mother's tales of America and Los Angeles.

"When are we going to Los Angeles mommy?" one of the girls would
occasionally ask.
"Soon, dear, as soon as the ship comes." She would say
"Will the ship be long mommy?"
"Not long dear." She would answer, "Soon."

And the years passed slowly in the sun as the children and their
mother, spent time with each other on the island.

Sandra did the things she always did, and early in the mornings she and
the two little ones would go collecting shells on the shore. She taught
them to only pick up the really pretty, and perfect ones. She taught
them how to keep the Blue Lotus beds tidy, and both children developed
an affinity for the flowers from an early age.

During the long hot days they would sit with their mother underneath a
palm tree close to the signal fire, overlooking the beach. Looking in
the distant horizon for any sign of a ship.

"When we get to America, mommy's gonna buy us each a brand new dress."
Said Rosy.
"What's 'a dress'?" asked Maggie.
"Almost like what we've got on, only prettier." Explained Rosy.
"Oh." Said Maggie.

"I want see a 'movie' when we get there." Said Maggie "They sound
fun."
"They sure do." Was Rosie's response and then she added," I want to see
one with Val Kilmer, mommy says his 'handsome'."
"We'll need a car too." Said Maggie.
"Yes, and a house." Said Rosy.

And so they went on speculating about a future that was entirely
uncertain, but seemed certain in their minds. After all, mommy and
daddy said it was going to be so. So they believed it. With their whole
hearts and minds. They would be going 'home' soon. A home they never
knew, far away from the only home they had ever known.

"What are you two talking about?" asked Sandra from where she was
resting in the shade of the palm tree.
"About our house and car." Said Maggie.
"And Val Kilmer." Said Rosie.
"I think you two are getting ahead of yourself", said the mother.

It was early morning and Jon had stopped fishing, he was resting in the
cavern. She looked over the ocean, and she wasn't sure if her eyes
deceived her but she saw a long dark object emerge from the water,
quite deep in.

She could see by its movement it was man made, and certainly no whale.
Then she spotted the distinct shape of a submarines tower. She had no
fire going so ran to the cavern as fast as she could, leaving the
little ones behind.

"Come quick Jon!" she shouted as she entered the clearing where the
cave was. She snatched a branch from the fire that they always kept
burning.

"What is it?" he asked.
"A ship." She said "A submarine." And then she was gone with the
burning branch on her way back to the beach.

Jon picked up a burning branch as well and ran after her. They reached
the signal fire at the same time, Jon having caught up with her
quickly. The little girls were jumping up and down shouting
excitedly.

They lit the fire and it soon blazed furiously sending up a dark puff
of smoke. When it was burning well Jon added some wet leaves for more
smoke. A black plume of smoke rose from their little island and was
spotted by the submarine.

According to their calendar it was 15 June 2015.

Chapter Seven: Rescue.

The captain of the submarine came ashore the island with a small group
of men about an hour after they had lit the fire.

It was a Japanese submarine. The captain found a bedraggled little
group on the beach of the small island. The man's hair and beard was
long, the woman's hair was long and unkempt, the two little girls were
dirty, and they were all clothed in rough woolen garments.

He discovered that they were shipwrecked from the passenger liner
'Santa Maria' in 2005, and had been on the island ten years. Both
little girls had been born in this time. The man was twenty-four years
old, and the women twenty-five. The little girls were aged five and
seven respectively, each being close to their next birthday.

They had kept a chalk calendar and they were only four days out.
According to them it was June 15th, but in reality it was June 19th.
The man and the women were both amazed that they could have lost four
days. They laughed and joked to each other about it quite
extensively.

He inquired as to their health and they assured him they had no serious
medical illness or condition among them. Then he asked them if they had
any personal possessions they would like to take along. The man said no
but the woman said, "Yes, I would like to take something along, come
children." She called her little ones.

She put her shell collection in one of the large plastic containers.
Then she dug out four small Blue Lotus plants and placed them in small
containers, which she handed to the children. In her wallet were some
seeds of the plants, which she had harvested, and always kept on her.
Then she took the large container with the shells, and the girls took
the small ones with the plants, and they headed back for the
beach.

The speedboat took them swiftly away from the island towards the
submarine. Before entering the vessel's interior they gave the island
one more glimpse of goodbye.

Then the huge submarine submerged and they were safely in its womb.
Cruising away from their island prison.

They were given clean clothes but the smallest shirts on the submarine
were too big for the little girls, still they had to make do.

In their quarters were a shower and basin. They both bathed and shaved
properly for the first time in ten years. The shipman that acted as the
ships barber cut their hair. They were cordially invited to supper in
the Captains cabin, which they graciously accepted.

At supper that evening they tasted real meat again, and were amazed at
the variety of food and vegetables that were placed before them. The
Captain had steak served.

"What happened to Michael Jackson?" Jon asked the Captain during the
diner discussion. Sandra laughed.
"He came out of jail two years ago, but I think he is still on parole."
Answered the Captain.
"You mean, they actually sent him to jail?" Jon asked.
"Told they would." Said Sandra
"Yes, well the conviction was nine years ago, so I've almost forgotten
the details." Said the Captain, "But I remember that the evidence of
the state during the trail was quite irrefutable."

"And Madonna, is she still around?" asked Jon. Sandra laughed again,
Jon had no end tonight. But then both their spirits were soaring high
with long awaited freedom.
"Oh, Madonna became quite spiritual in her old age, and became a nun
working out in East Africa. In the Sudan, if I remember correctly."
Said the Captain.
"Well, I'll be?" said Jon.

Then Sandra asked the Captain who the president of the United was, and
what had happened to George Bush.
"The president of the United States is a democrat called Michael Moore,
and George Bush is currently an accused in war crimes trails in The
Hague, for atrocities committed during the Iraq war ten years ago."
Said the Captain.

They slept in clean linen on the most comfortable beds that they could
possibly imagine. They all slept a blissful sleep.

The following day they made radio contact with the authorities in the
United States, and ultimately with Sandra's parents. Her folks were
overjoyed at the news of their daughter's rescue, and safe return. She
dreaded facing Peter's parents. But their secret would remain hidden.
No one would ever know that Peter had been on the island with them.
They would tell everyone that he must have been lost at sea. This
matter had been prearranged by Jon and herself. She and the little ones
needed him, and he needed them.

They went back with the same route by which they had come. Fist stop;
Guam, where they only stopped a day. Here the children saw large crowds
of people for the first time in the harbor, which made them quite
exited. From Guam they traveled west toward the Hawaiian Islands with
shipping route 6130, which took nearly a week.

The news of their rescue had spread around the globe, and in Oahu there
were already a few people from the press eager to interview them, but
they declined, wishing to wait until they had arrived back home.

The submarine surfaced at Oahu harbor and they showed the children what
American soil looks like for the first time.

In Oahu they boarded the land and went and got the girls more clothes
at a local shop. They had already received some clothes at Guam.
They had coffee at a seaside caf?, and the children had milkshakes.
When it was finished they wanted more, Sandra had to put her foot down
by saying "No." They stared over the ocean each with their own
thoughts.

They fought about the last ten years, and then they thought about how
their lives were before the shipwreck. They thought about the future.
They had decided to only do two interviews with large networks; that
would be all. They wanted to have some semblance of normality in their
lives as soon as was possible.

They sat and stared out over the sea, each thinking their own thoughts,
yet, their thoughts were not all that different. They thought about
those ten years in the sun with the only concern having been, to get
away from there. Now, after they had been rescued, they had to plan for
the future that they had dreamt of for so long.

They thought about Peter, and were filled with sadness, but they knew
it best to let the past lie buried in silence. They were awed by the
crowds of people on the boardwalk going about the normal routines,
oblivious of the man and the woman, and their two little girls. Little
did the people passing by know about this foursome, where they came
from and had been these last ten years. Who they were.

After they had sat there outside the caf? for quite some time, a
feeling of disorientation settled over them, so they made their way
back to their hotel room. The girls could not get over the comforts of
modern living, and sat glued to the Television set the whole afternoon,
while their parents went to lie down, rest, and reflect some
more.

Two days later they boarded a passenger liner for San Francisco.

Epilogue.

The little family settled quickly in Los Angeles.

Her only really unpleasant experience was talking to Peter's parents;
luckily she only did so over the telephone. Jon's father was missing at
sea, presumed dead. He contacted an aunt he knew in Monterey, and did
not have any other relatives to get in touch with.

They lived with Sandra's parents for the first year. Her father gave
Jon a job as a messenger at the law firm he was with. It was one f the
top firms in the city, so Jon earned a good salary. She took up courses
at the University, and the little ones went off to school.

The girls had no problems at school and were very popular under their
playmates. They were called the 'island girls' by their contemporaries,
which suited them, being so young. They loved all the attention. They
loved grandma and grand pa, and were equally adored by them in return.
Jon also got on very well with both her parents, and her brother. After
staying with them for a year, Jon and Sandra moved out with the girls,
to a little apartment near the city.

From their balcony you could hear the sounds of the train yard,
especially late at night. They could hear the clash of metal as
carriages were couple to engines, moved about the tracks, to some other
desired point in the yard, and parked. The sounds of shunting could be
heard into the early morning hours, and became a familiar and pleasant
sound.

The sound of movement, of things happening, and people going places.
People moving to distant points of the great continent. Always moving,
never standing still, not even for a day. Live had stood still for them
for ten years, now it rolled on as if it had never stopped.

After they had been back in the USA a year, and had moved into their
own place, their lives continued as if it had never been interrupted so
harshly and for so long. Jon went to work early in the morning, after
dropping the girls off at school. She took her courses, but did most of
her studying at home. She cleaned the apartment, and kept herself
occupied. One day in the city became just like any other, much as it
was on the island, except for all the crowds. It was difficult for all
of them to become accustomed to the people, noise and pollution. But
when all was said and done, there was nothing better than the comforts
and luxuries of civilization.

In the mornings she made her little family breakfast and then chased
them out of the front door, so that her man could go and work, and her
little ones could get out of her hair. Then she bathed, dressed and
cleaned the house. She would then study a bit and sometimes watch
something on the television.

And often she would go out to the balcony where she kept her plant pots
and trays. She would look at her lovely Blue Lotus plants, which she
and her daughters so carefully cultivated and nursed. With enough water
they flourished on the balcony in the hot California sun.

She would look at the Blue Lotus and then stare far out to sea,
thinking of them blooming on a grave far away. Blue Lotus growing on
the grave of a young man, on some lost island, in some lonely corner of
the Pacific.

"We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our little life is
rounded by a sleep." 'The Tempest', Act IV Scene I (Shakespeare.)

The End.

Copyright - JP Brown - 22/03/2005.

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